A  V 


Music  AIND  CULTURE. 


COMPRISING  A 


NUMBER  OF  LECTURES  AND  ESSAYS. 


BY 


KARL  MERZ,  Mus.D, 


PHILADELPHIA: 
THEODORE    PRESSER, 

1708  CHESTNUT  STREET. 

8ANDUSKY,  O:  CHARLES  U.  MERZ,  M.D. 


Copyrighted,  1890,  by  THEODORE  PRESSES. 


PRESS  OF  WM.  F.  FELL  &  Co. 

I220-2A  SANSOM  ST, 

PHILADELPHIA. 


PREFACE. 


The  history  of  this  volume  is  told  in  the  Introduction.  It  was  the  privilege 
of  the  editor  on  many  occasions  to  participate  in  the  labors  of  the  author,  and 
it  has  been  his  aim  to  follow  out  his  ideas  as  closely  as  possible.  He  has  closely 
followed  the  manuscript,  and  has  spared  no  pains  to  render  the  work  worthy  of 
its  author  and  its  subject. 

It  is  hoped,  therefore,  that  this  book,  which  possesses  a  filial  as  well  as  an 
individual  interest  for  him,  may  prove  an  acceptable  memento  of  its  loved 

author. 

CHARLES  H.  MERZ,  M.  D. 
Sandusky,  0. 


111 


2081  ,'568 


INTRODUCTION. 


la  handing  to  the  reading  world  the  heirloom  left  by  a  departed  friend,  the 
editor  will  surely  be  pardoned  for  endeavoring  to  inspire  the  reader  with  a  little 
of  the  love  and  deference  which  the  departed  one  received  at  all  hands  while  he 
lived. 

Not  as  an  opinion,  but  as  a  fact,  which  many  of  the  best  musicians  of  this 
country  will  cheerfully  corroborate,  it  may  be  said  that — 

Karl  Merz  was  one  of  the  most  learned,  scholarly  musicians  of  this  country ; 

Karl  Merz  was  as  a  teacher  almost  unparalleled  in  inspiring  his  pupils  with  the 
beauty  and  dignity  of  his  art ; 

Karl  Merz  was  one  of  the  most  lovable  of  men,  idolized  by  his  pupils  and 
friends,  uncommonly  well  respected  as  a  citizen,  and  highly  esteemed  for  his 
multiform  and  profound  knowledge. 

The  essays  collected  here  were  written  at  different  tunes,  originally  for  the 
purpose  of  being  read  to  the  students  of  Wooster  University,  where  he  occupied 
the  chair  of  the  music  department.  A  few  of  them  appeared  in  some  of  our  few 
serious  music  papers  and  attracted  such  general  attention,  that  their  author  was 
frequently  urged  to  publish  them  in  book  form  ;  but  his  retiring,  modest  disposi- 
tion shrank  from  publicity,  and  so  he  always  refused  the  publication,  adding : 
"My  wife  and  children  may  publish  them  when  I  am  dead  !  "  Alas  !  that  now, 
all  too  soon,  the  time  for  publication  had  to  come  ;  that  the  feeling  of  gratifica- 
tion at  the  sight  of  the  book  has  to  mingle  with  the  tears  of  sorrow  and  regret 
for  the  lost  friend ! 

And  yet — in  the  face  of  the  irrevocable,  unfathomable  decree  of  Providence, 
it  is  a  consolation  to  the  author's  friends  to  read  his  papers  again,  to  spread  their 
contents  of  truth  and  beauty  and  to  thus  widen  the  public  appreciation  of  a  truly 
noble,  capable  and  good  man. 

But  aside  from  all  which  personal  relations  may  prompt  the  editor  to  say  in 
regard  to  these  essays,  the  fact  will  be  readily  admitted  by  the  reader,  that  they 
form  a  most  valuable  and  eminently  useful  contribution  to  musico-aesthetic  litera- 
ture. Especially  the  student  of  music  will  find  in  them  a  source  of  correct  and 
necessary  information,  as  well  as  a  gentle  guide  towards  an  earnest  and  ideal  con- 
ception of  music,  of  its  ethics,  nature  and  mission  on  earth.  But  also  the 
unmusical  reader  will  not  put  the  book  out  of  his  hands  without  confessing  to 
himself  to  have  profited  by  it. 

Dr.  Merz  was,  as  mentioned  before,  a  man  of  multiform  knowledge,  but  besides, 
he  was  also  an  earnest  and  profound  thinker — far  too  profound  not  to  have  fully 
outgrown  such  mental  perversions  as  religious  skepticism,  and  it  is  on  this  point 
that  the  essays  will  prove  most  beneficial ;  a  sound  religious  sentiment,  free 

v 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

from  denominational  barriers,  prevails  in  his  essays,  which  at  the  same  time 
reveal  the  author's  wonderful  gift  of  making  his  abstract  knowledge  practically 
useful  and  applicable  for  the  student. 

It  can  really  not  be  praised  too  much  that  Dr.  Merz,  for  one,  escaped  the  disas- 
trous tendency  of  modern  science  (or  rather,  of  the  erroneous  and  frivolous 
interpretation  of  its  wonderful  disclosures) ;  that  Dr.  Merz,  for  one,  avoided  the 
widespread  mistake  of  allowing  his  scientific  researches  and  their  results  to  destroy 
his  idealism.  With  keen,  unerring  judgment,  he  kept  the  founts  and  elements 
of  art  and  science  separate,  assigning  spheres  of  equal  proportions  to  both  healthy 
emotion  and  cold  reasoning.  How  forcibly  he  impressed  his  powerful  convictions 
on  these  subjects  upon  his  hearers,  the  reader  will  now  witness ;  certain  it  is,  that 
every  particle  of  truth  in  the  following  pages  was  earnestly  sought  for  and  arrived 
at  by  a  path  of  love,  of  true  love  to  God  and  to  his  fellow  beings ;  and  love — 
though  said  to  be  blind — errs  seldom  in  matters  relative  to  sentiment,  the  guiding 
principle  in  art 

CONSTANTIN  STERNBERG. 
JOHANNES  WOLFRAM. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

(lENIUS,     ............................          9-21 

CHAPTER  II. 
SUCCESS  IN  PROFESSIONAL  LIFE,     ................     22-32 

CHAPTER  III. 
SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY,  .............     33-44 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Music  OF  NATURE,  .......................     45-58 

CHAPTER  V. 
HEAD  AND  HEART,  .......................     59-72 

CHAPTER  VI. 
SANCTITY  OF  Music,    ......................      73-88 

CHAPTER  Vn. 
CHURCH  Music,     ........................    89-108 

CHAPTER  VTIL 
HINTS  TO  PUPILS,     .......................  109-110 

CHAPTER  IX. 
PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  BEAUTIFUL,    ................  111-120 

CHAPTER  X. 
A  PLEA  FOR  Music,  .......................  121-131 

CHAPTER  XL 

VALUE  OF  MUSICAL  EDUCATION,  .................  132-144 

CHAPTER  XII. 
MEMORY,  ............................  145-156 


CHAPTER 
WOMAN  IN  Music,  .......................  157-167 

CHAPTER  XTV. 
HARMONY,  ...........................  168-175 

CHAPTER  XV. 
IMAGINATION,    .........................  176-186 

CHAPTER  XVI 
EXPRESSION,  ..........................  187-192 

CHAPTER  XVH. 
MAXIMS,  ............................  193-206 


GENIUS. 


Time,  place  and  action,  may,  without  pains,  be  wrought, 
But  genius  must  be  born,  and  never  can  be  taught. 

— DRYDEN.     "  Epis.  to  Congreve,"  Line  59. 

The  Latin  word  genius,  signifies  the  divine  nature  which  is  innate  in  all 
human  beings.  According  to  Webster,  the  word  means  that  peculiar  structure  of 
mind  with  which  each  individual  is  endowed,  but  especially  mental  superiority  and 
uncommon  intellectual  power.  Great  philosophers  differ  in  their  metaphysical 
definition  of  this  word,  while  little  philosophers  use  it  with  a  freedom  that  is 
alarming.  Thus  we  find  that  he  who  dabbles  in  everything,  but  does  nothing 
well,  is  by  many  called  a  genius.  Let  a  young  man  be  able  to  play  a  few  tunes 
upon  each  of  the  several  horns  of  a  brass  band,  and  immediately  he  is  called  a 
genius.  I  believe  it  was  Josh  Billings,  that  country-store  philosopher,  who  said, 
that  "  a  genius  is  a  person  who  thinks  he  knows  everything,  but  who  in  reality 
knows  nothing,  except  how  to  spill  '  vittles '  on  his  clothes. ' '  But  why  multiply 
quotations?  "Sensibility,"  says  a  writer,  "is  that  power,  which  distinguishes 
man  from  the  animal,  and  predominating  sensibility  is  Genius."  Says  James 
Russell  Lowell,  "  Talent  is  that  which  is  in  a  man's  possession,  Genius  is  that  in 
whose  possession  a  man  is."  Being  endowed  with  unusual  mental  powers,  the 
man  of  genius  is  a  higher  sort  of  a  being.  According  to  some,  this  term  should 
only  be  applied  to  persons  engaged  in  art  pursuits  ;  the  human  mind,  however, 
is  gifted  in  many  ways,  and  the  definition  of  the  word  as  meaning  predominating 
sensibility,  includes  all  the  various  directions  in  which  the  mind  may  show  forth 
its  superiority. 

Before  saying  anything  about  the  characteristics  of  Genius,  a  distinction  should 
be  made  between  Genius  and  Talent.  Talent  is  often  mistaken  for  Genius ;  yes, 
men  of  talent  frequently  aim  to  pass  themselves  off  as  men  of  genius.  What, 
then,  is  the  difference  ?  Genius  is  a  creative  power,  using  this  word  in  a  finite 
sense.  Talent,  on  the  other  hand,  is  an  imitative  power,  and  inasmuch  as  men 
rarely  become  great  by  imitating  others,  men  of  talent  but  seldom  acquire  uni- 
versal reputation.  Genius  originates ;  it  substitutes  the  new  for  the  old  ;  hence 
it  is  revolutionary,  radical  and  aggressive.  Talent  merely  imitates.  Only  that 
which  is  already  in  existence  can  be  imitated,  hence  Talent  reproduces  and  per- 
petuates the  old.  Talent  must,  therefore,  be  regarded  as  conservative.  Genius 
makes  its  own  laws ;  it  boldly  oversteps  those  rules  which  have  hitherto  fettered 
the  human  mind.  Talent,  however,  follows  in  the  wake  of  Genius  and  patiently 
f  ".bmits  to  those  rules  which  Genius  dictates.  Talent  learns  art  rules  from  books, 

9 


10  MUSIC  AND  CULTUKE. 

Genius  reads  them  within  himself.  "Talent,"  says  a  scholar,  "is  a  bird  fastened 
to  a  string,  Genius  is  the  bird  unfettered. ' '  Genius  dares  to  do  what  Talent  would 
be  severely  criticised  for  doing.  Beethoven  was  once  approached  by  a  young 
man  with  the  request  that  he  would  examine  one  of  the  young  student's  compo- 
sitions. The  master  made  a  few  corrections  but  was  soon  reminded  of  the  fact 
that  he  in  a  like  manner  had  overstepped  the  rules.  Beethoven  smiled  and  said : 
"  I  may  do  so,  but  you  dare  not. ' ' 

Genius  is  rare,  and  its  scarcity  makes  it  precious.  Talent  is  abundant,  and  its 
abundance  makes  it  common.  It  is  the  scarcity  of  the  finer  metals  that  gives 
them  their  value,  and  it  is  the  abundance  of  paper  money  which  depreciates  it. 
Ah1  men  are  more  or  less  gifted,  hence  Talent  is  not  much  esteemed,  while  Genius 
always  has  been,  and  always  will  be,  an  object  of  human  admiration.  And, 
while  speaking  of  our  admiration  for  Genius,  let  me  say,  that  the  less  we  see  of 
men  of  genius,  the  greater  they  appear  to  us.  Thus,  it  is  said,  "  the  king,  whom 
a  nation  reveres,  is  but  a  common  mortal  in  the  eyes  of  his  valet,  who  sees  him 
every  day." 

Talent  can  be  brightened  to  an  astonishingly  high  degree,  but  Talent  can  never 
be  converted  into  Genius,  no  more  than  silver  can  be  changed  into  gold.  Talent 
toils  and  gains  knowledge  through  labor  and  study,  while  Genius  sees  things  as  if 
by  intuition,  and,  says  a  writer,  "it  takes  in  at  a  glance  the  true  relations 
between  men  and  things."  Yet  Genius  is  not  perfect.  It  often  goes  to  excess, 
and  seeks  its  ideals  in  wrong  directions.  Unbridled,  misdirected,  Genius  leads  to 
deformity  and  insanity. 

In  his  relations  with  the  world,  the  man  of  genius  is  objective,  that  is,  he  looks 
out  into  the  world  and  perceives  things  as  they  are — he  sees  what  escapes  the 
notice  of  plainer  mortals ;  hence,  Genius  draws  pleasures  from  objects  which 
thousands  fail  to  notice,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  he  suffers  from  causes  which 
would  not  affect  others.  The  average  man,  however,  is  subjective,  that  is,  he 
merely  sees  the  world  as  it  appears  to  him — he  views  everything  through  the  lens 
of  his  own  affections  or  prejudices.  All  situations  are  colored  by  his  own  feelings, 
and  he  is  ever  ready  to  put  his  own  short-sighted  interpretation  upon  his  neighbor's 
actions.  Men  of  genius,  therefore,  have  refused  to  recognize  their  fellow-creatures 
as  men ;  hence,  we  learn  that  Diogenes  walked  about  the  streets  in  broad  daylight 
carrying  a  lantern,  searching  for  men.  Of  course,  there  is  a  great  diversity  of 
talent,  and  some  are  far  above  others  in  nobility  of  character,  as  well  as  in  learning. 

It  is  an  old  saying  that  "  the  world  is  a  stage,  and  all  the  men  and  women  merely 
players."     Says  a  humorist :  "  In  youth,  they  usually  play  'Romeo  and  Juliet,' 
but  when  farther  advanced  in  years  they  occasionally  perform  the  '  Tempest. ' ' 
As  a  rule,  men  of  genius  occupy  the  auditorium  (says  a  philosopher),  looking 
calmly  at  the  scrambling  and  fussing  of  the  actors. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  average  man  views  the  world  through  the  lens  of  self, 
hence,  he  is  generally  suspicious  ;  at  least,  he  is  vigilant  in  his  intercourse  with 
others.  Yes,  the  average  man  is  almost  always  bent  upon  selfish  projects.  Half 
of  his  life  is  spent  in  gaining  wealth,  and  the  other  half,  it  is  said,  is  employed  in 
studying  how  to  keep  or  how  to  enjoy  it.  The  genius,  on  the  other  hand,  regards 
his  physical  existence  as  secondary  to  his  mental  life.  Physical  wants  are  often 
an  annoyance  to  him.  He  is  generally  of  very  little  value  in  business  affairs  ;  he 


GENIUS.  11 

is  ignorant  of  the  ways  of  acquiring  wealth,  hence,  he  generally  remains  poor. 
Schopenhauer  says:  "Genius  is  about  as  useless  in  the  affairs  of  life,  as  a 
telescope  would  be  hi  an  opera  house. ' '  Originality  of  thought  is  the  golden  path 
that  leads  Genius  into  his  kingdom,  and,  inasmuch  as  he  seeks  wisdom  wherewith 
to  benefit  the  human  family,  it  must  be  said  of  him  that  he  is  the  thinker,  while 
the  average  man  is  the  worker  in  the  human  bee-hive.  The  latter  produces 
material  wealth,  and,  although  he  aims  to  produce  exclusively  for  himself,  he 
nevertheless  produces  for  the  masses.  Thus  we  see  men  attend  to  the  affairs  of 
self;  but  the  constant  attention  to  self  is  apt  to  make  one  selfish,  and  selfishness  is 
always  littleness  of  character.  Men  of  genius,  on  the  other  hand,  as  a  rule,  are 
always  self-sacrificing ;  they  are  humane ;  they  live  and  die  for  a  cause,  and 
herein  Genius  is  always  great.  The  average  man  can  never  produce  those  works 
of  art  which  Genius  produces,  no  matter  how  he  applies  himself,  no  matter  who 
teaches  him.  Lacking,  as  he  does,  that  high  degree  of  sensibility  which  dis' 
tinguishes  Genius,  he  fails  to  receive  those  impressions  which  Genius  alone  can 
receive  ;  how,  then,  can  he  give  expression  to  the  lofty  inspirations  of  the  man 
of  genius  ?  Art  and  literature  are  the  principal  domains  in  which  Genius  feels  at 
home  ;  in  them  he  delights  to  revel.  In  art,  Genius  searches  for  the  beautifui, 
for  art  is  the  bodily  representation  of  the  beautiful.  All  that  is  beautiful  and 
perfect  must  be  concentrated  in  the  Deity,  hence,  the  artist,  in  his  work,  strives 
to  give  us  a  portion  of  the  Infinite,  a  glimpse  of  the  Deity  itself.  To  lead  us  to 
this  source  of  perfection  is  the  high,  and  the  only  true,  mission  of  art. 

When  Genius  conceives  of  a  work  of  art,  he  carries  it  with  him  in  his  mind  and 
affections.  It  has  been  said,  "Genius  does  not  take  pencil  in  hand  and  say,  now 
I  will  write  a  symphony,  nor  does  he  prepare  colors  and  say,  now  I  will  paint  a 
Madonna,"  No!  something  precedes  all  this!  The  ideas  spring  up  in  the 
artist's  mind  as  buds  spring  forth  on  trees  and  bushes,  and  as  these  gradually 
develop  so  the  art- work  is  perfected  to  a  good  degree  ere  the  artist  begins  to  write 
or  paint.  It  may  be  said  that  no  artist  is,  in  the  real  sense  of  the  word,  a  free, 
voluntary  creator,  while  in  another  he  is.  He  cannot  tell  why  and  how  the  ideas 
develop  themselves  within  him.  Says  a  writer,  we  know  not  whether  we  think 
thoughts  ourselves,  or  whether  they  are  thought  within  us ;  whether  we  create 
them,  or  whether  we  merely  discover  them.  We  feel  the  power  of  the  mind 
within  us,  but  cannot  describe  its  operations.  Dante  said  :  "I  am  one  of  those 
poets  who,  if  love  breathes  on  them,  writes  it  down,  and  that  just  as  it  was  felt 
by  the  inner  man." 

When  the  artist  has  conceived  a  design  for  a  new  work,  there  is  no  rest  for 
him  until  he  has  carried  it  out  in  tones,  in  colors,  in  marble,  or  in  words.  He 
models  and  remodels  it,  until  it  conforms  to  his  ideal  of  the  beautiful.  If  this 
ideal  is  low,  so  will  be  his  art-work  ;  if  it  be  pure  and  sublime,  the  art-work  will 
be  pure  and  great.  The  production  of  an  art-work  is  to  the  artist  the  greatest 
pleasure  possible,  for  the  privation  of  which  no  earthly  possession  can  compensate. 
This  pleasure  rewards  Genius  for  the  many  privations  incident  to  his  career. 

When  the  artist  is  at  work,  he  often  sits  still,  as  if  dead  to  the  world  without 
It  requires  great  mental  concentration  to  produce  an  art-work  ;  its  production  has 
been  compared  to  the  shedding  of  a  skin.  But  if  the  production  of  an  art-work 
requires  great  mental  concentration,  the  same  is  required  of  him  who  aims  to  re- 


12  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

produce  it.  To  enter  into  the  spirit  of  a  piece  of  music  is  not  an  easy  task  ;  the 
average  pupil  sinks  under  the  strain  ;  he  cannot  endure  it  long,  hence  many  fail 
in  their  appreciation  of  the  masters.  Observe  how  the  artist  infuses  himself  into 
his  art-work.  He  impresses  upon  it  his  heart's  noblest  emotions,  he  fashions  it 
after  his  best  thought ;  therefore,  he  who  studies  a  work  of  art  comes  into  close 
contact  with  the  artist's  thoughts  and  emotions,  and  their  influence  will  either 
be  for  good  or  for  evil,  just  as  the  artist's  conceptions  were  good  or  evil.  Many 
believe  that  the  arts  have  an  influence  only  so  far  as  they  produce  pleasurable  sensa- 
tions, but  such  is  not  the  fact. 

There  are  many  who  compose,  many  who  paint  or  make  verses,  yet  their  work 
is  but  as  brass,  when  compared  with  the  gold  that  comes  out  of  the  workshop  of 
Genius.  But  who  would  discourage  the  manufacture  of  brass  ?  It  is  a  most  use- 
ful article  in  the  world's  workshop.  So  the  work  of  our  amateurs  and  of  men  of 
talent  is  not  to  be  despised  in  the  history  of  art  and  literature.  While  many 
amateurs  use  music  merely  as  a  plaything,  as  an  accomplishment,  or  as  a  means 
of  livelihood,  Genius  is  always  unselfish  in  the  use  of  the  arts ;  he  aims  not 
so  much  at  personal  aggrandizement  as  at  the  advancement  of  his  fellow  crea- 
tures. The  person  who  seeks  self  first  and  alone,  in  art,  is  like  he  who  unites 
with  the  church  for  mercenary  reasons.  He  who  is  unselfish  in  his  art  pursuits, 
is  the  art  disciple.  Herein  consists  the  highest  aim  and  position  of  artists,  and 
it  is  their  only  true  relation  to  art. 

The  more  a  people  are  given  to  the  pursuits  of  material  things,  the  less  will 
they  be  able  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  true  art.  Thousands  look  at  a  picture  or 
hear  a  grand  piece  of  music,  but  in  the  language  of  the  Bible,  "  they  have  eyes 
and  see  not,  they  have  ears  and  hear  not. ' '  As  the  body  develops,  so  the  mind 
must  grow.  The  taste  for  the  beautiful  must  be  cultivated,  else  we  shall  no* 
enjoy  it.  The  pleasures  of  the  mind  alone  are  enduring,  for  they  come  from  the 
Eternal  and  they  lead  to  the  Eternal.  He,  therefore,  whose  pleasures  consist 
merely  in  bodily  gratification,  is  yet  near  the  brute  ;  he  has  no  abiding  place  in 
the  temple  of  art.  Genius  needs  culture.  Horace  said  "that  neither  diligence 
without  genius,  nor  genius  without  education  will  produce  anything  thorough. 
Men  of  genius  must  study  the  works  of  Genius.  However,  when  the  education 
of  Genius  is  completed,  he  asserts  his  own  independence,  and  boldly  steps  forth 
into  those  domains  where  no  human  footprints  are  seen.  Talent,  on  the  other 
hand,  continues  to  walk  in  the  path  which  has  been  pointed  out  to  it.  The  man 
of  talent  reads  in  order  to  gather  knowledge  ;  Genius  reads  oftener  in  order  to 
stimulate  his  mind.  Talent  gathers  information  as  water  is  gathered  in  cisterns  ; 
the  mind  of  Genius,  however,  is  like  a  well,  it  supplies  itself.  Men  of  talent 
Income  great  scholars,  immense  storehouses  of  learning,  but  men  of  genius  are 
preeminently  thinkers. 

Says  Holmes :  "  0/ie-story  intellects,  two-story  intellects,  three-story  intellects. 
All  fact  collectors,  who  have  no  ami  beyond  their  facts,  are  one-story  men.  Two- 
fctory  men  compare,  reason,  generalize,  using  the  labors  of  the  fact  collectors  as 
well  as  their  own.  Three-story  men  idealize,  imagine,  predict ;  their  best  illumi- 
nations come  from  above,  through  the  skylight.  They  are  the  men  of  genius. 
On  the  sea  of  thought  men  of  talent  are  as  coast  travelers,  while  the  minds 
of  the  common  people  are  as  skiffs  that  can  safely  cross  a  stream  if  the  water  be 


GENIUS.  13 

calm.  The  mind  of  Genius,  however,  is  as  the  majestic  steamer,  which,  well 
equipped  with  compass  and  instruments,  steers  out  upon  the  open  sea," 

Genius  lives  in  a  world  of  his  own,  a  world  into  which  the  average  man  never 
can  enter.  There  are  millions  that  have  no  idea  of  its  existence,  while  millions 
more  have  but  a  faint  glimmer  of  it,  like  that  from  a  far  distant  luminary.  He 
wanders  in  gardens  full  of  roses ;  he  sleeps  in  bowers  strewn  with  the  richest 
flowers ;  he  rests  on  banks  covered  with  the  softest  moss ;  he  drinks  of  the  coolest 
fountains ;  the  birds  sing  sweetest  to  him  ;  the  atmosphere  which  he  breathes  is  rich 
and  balmy,  and  he  is  surrounded  by  creatures  of  his  own  fancy,  too  lovely  to 
describe.  This  is  the  dream-land  of  Genius,  wherein  the  muses  and  graces  wait 
upon  him  and  carry  him  on  their  hands.  Is  it,  then,  a  wonder  that  he  loves  to 
roam  there  ?  Alas !  how  great  is  his  bewilderment  and  suffering  when  he  is 
forced  to  attend  to  the  affairs  of  the  world  ?  How  great  his  agony  when  he  feels 
the  rough  stones  and  the  stings  of  the  thistles  which  our  hardened  feet  have  long 
since  ceased  to  regard  ?  How  helpless  is  Genius  when  he  has  to  deal  with  the 
cunning  men  of  the  business  world ;  how  sad  to  see  him  enslaved  by  designing  men, 
who  rob  him  of  his  honest  toil  ?  Schopenhauer  compares  genius,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, to  a  vase  which  is  being  used  for  culinary  purposes. 

When  the  troubles  of  life  pursue  him,  Genius  seeks  his  dream-land,  and  there 
he  bemoans  the  realities  of  his  existence,  and  with  his  utterances  he  touches  our 
hearts  until  the  tears  begin  to  flow.  On  the  other  hand,  when  in  his  dream-land, 
Genius  often  forgets  the  everyday  world,  with  its  worriments,  and  he  often  bursts 
out  in  strains  of  joy,  which  shed  sunshine  into  the  darkest  of  lives  and  the 
gloomiest  of  hearts.  There  is  another  class  of  dreamers ;  those  who  build  castles 
in  the  air,  or  those  who  see  forms  in  the  clouds  above;  but  such  dreamers  never 
realize  the  pictures  of  their  fancies.  Geniuses  are  dreamers,  but  not  all  dreamers 
are  men  of  genius. 

The  man  of  genius  generally  concentrates  his  entire  self  upon  one  subject, 
hence  the  intensity  of  his  woes  or  joys.  In  changing  his  attention  from  one  sub- 
ject to  another,  his  hilarity  may  therefore  suddenly  be  changed  into  deep  sorrow, 
and  vice  versa.  This  explains  the  changeableness  of  the  moods  of  men  of  genius. 
One  moment  they  are  driven  to  despair,  and  the  next  they  act  like  children. 
Cardinal  Richelieu  would  play  leap-frog  with  the  little  ones.  But,  then,  read 
the  biographies  of  our  great  men,  and  you  will  no  doubt  find  many  illustrations 
of  this  statement. 

It  is  a  well  known  fact  that  men  of  genius  are  full  of  eccentricities.  Aristotle 
has  said,  ' '  that  no  distinguished  genius  is  free  from  madness. ' '  Pope  says  : — 

"  Great  wits  to  madness 
Sure  are  near  allied, 
And  thin  partitions 
Do  their  bounds  divide. ' ' 

How  often  men  of  genius  are  denounced  as  "cranks,"  while  the  "cranks" 
are  regarded  as  wise  men.  Columbus  was  called  a  fool,  while  Joan  D'Arc  was 
considered  inspired. 

Men  of  genius  are  instruments  used  by  God  wherewith  to  improve  mankind. 
They  are  always  revolutionizes  in  some  departments  of  the  human  household. 


14  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

The  masses,  however,  do  not  like  to  be  disturbed  in  their  accustomed  mode  of 
doing  things,  and  he  who  attempts  to  introduce  new  ways  is  denounced  as  a 
meddler.  Hence  the  antagonism  between  men  of  genius  and  the  masses. 

As  capital  and  labor  are  needlessly  antagonistic,  so  are  the  principles  of  beauti- 
fying and  utilizing  the  earth.  Both  ought  to  cooperate,  both  are  necessary  for 
the  world's  economy.  Business  men  usually  have  very  little  regard  for  men  of 
genius,  because  of  their  apparent  uselessness  in  the  affairs  of  this  world.  They 
are  often  denounced  because  they  produce  no  material  wealth  and  because  they 
are  poor  managers  at  home.  But  these  (dollar  and  cent)  critics  overlook  the  fact, 
that  the  works  of  genius  are  the  wealth  of  the  mind.  And  surely  the  mind  must 
also  be  fed  in  order  that  k,  may  grow.  If  men  of  genius  do  not  build  railroads, 
they  build  those  roads  which  lead  to  refinement  and  culture,  in  a  word,  to  mental 
progress. 

It  is  not  the  bread  we  eat,  nor  the  clothes  we  wear,  that  makes  us  better — nay 
— next  to  the  word  of  God,  it  is  the  truth  as  revealed  in  art,  in  the  sciences,  in 
literature,  that  penetrates  men's  souls.  Hence  next  to  the  word  of  God  literature 
and  art  are  the  best  civilizers  and  refiners  of  men.  Genius  and  art  in  their  purest 
essence  are  humanity,  and  humanity  is  a  large  part  of  religion.  How  sad,  how- 
ever, when  Genius  leaves  the  paths  of  truth,  and  produces  works  that  are  antago- 
nistic to  pure  morality,  or  when  perchance  he  denies  his  God.  It  is,  though, 
more  generally  the  would-be  genius  that  errs  in  this  direction.  Bacon  said  that, 
"a  little  philosophy  incliueth  man's  mind  to  atheism,  but  depth  of  philosophy 
bringeth  men's  mind  about  religion."  Alas,  how  often  young  men  attempt  to 
pass  themselves  off  as  profound  thinkers,  by  denying  their  God,  or  by  scoffing  at 
religion.  When  Genius  leaves  the  paths  of  truth,  his  words  become  a  shower  of 
fire,  which  consumes  men's  peace  and  happiness.  A  certain  writer  has  said  that 
every  genius  is  a  child,  and  every  child,  in  a  measure,  is  a  genius.  Study  the  life 
of  Mozart,  who  was  a  child  until  his  death,  but  who  was  a  giant  in  his  ait.  Most 
of  our  art  geniuses  were  children  in  many  things. 

Genius  searches  after  the  truth — the  truth  is  a  portion  of  the  Eternal  Genius 
embodies  the  beautiful — the  beautiful  also  is  the  Eternal,  for  God  is  the  embodi- 
ment of  the  beautiful.  Again  the  Eternal  is  love — truth  therefore  is  love — the 
beautiful  is  love — art  is  love — religion  is  love — children  are  love  ;  genius,  truth, 
art,  religion,  children,  all  are  akin,  all  draw  breath  from  the  same  source,  that 
divine  atmosphere,  where  love  reigns  supreme.  Art  and  religion,  therefore,  are 
akin,  and  the  true  artist  should  love  and  revere  the  source  of  all  that  is 
beautiful. 

The  common  man  views  life  from  a  personal  standpoint ;  it  begins  and  ends  with 
him,  except  it  be  in  his  love  for  his  children,  and  even  herein  men  are  often 
extremely  selfish.  It  is  the  aim  of  the  average  man  to  live  in  comfort  and  ease. 
Genius  however,  so  to  speak,  forgets  life's  pleasures.  Seeing  the  human  family 
in  ignorance,  he  feels  the  impulse  to  bring  about  reform.  Loving  his  art,  he 
knows  no  higher  delight  than  to  serve  it  In  turning  over  history's  page  we 
learn  that  those  who  have  carried  forward  the  work  of  reform  were  carried  on- 
ward on  the  wave  of  con  notion,  which  bids  defiance  to  prisons,  scaffolds  and  fag- 
gots. It  is  the  divine  spark  which  takes  away  the  fear  of  man.  But  what  if 
Genius  dies  bearing  testimony  to  the  truth,  let  us  remember,  that  though  his 


GENIUS.  15 

body  moulders  in  the  grave  his  soul  inarches  on.  Men  of  genius  are  as  beacon- 
lights  in  the  storms  of  life,  they  help  the  cause  of  human  freedom  and  progress, 
and  when  looking  around  upon  the  misery  of  the  human  family,  let  us  thank 
God,  that  he  gave  us  these  lights  to  help  us  on  our  way.  There  is  a  constant 
mental  and  social  evolution  taking  place.  Generation  after  generation  becomes 
better  and  wiser.  Governments  become  more  liberal,  sciences  shed  more  light, 
the  press  as  well  as  the  pulpit  are  becoming  more  powerful,  and  all  this  we  owe 
to  the  influences  of  great  minds  that  lead  us  on. 

Genius  is  never  servile.  He  is  the  true  nobleman  of  the  human  family.  He 
is  always  conscious,  more  or  less,  of  his  powers  as  well  as  of  his  high  mission. 
Hence  he  demands  recognition.  This  self-consciousness  of  superiority  even 
manifested  itself  in  one  of  those  unfortunates  who  had  lost  his  reasoning 
powers.  An  insane  genius  having  been  asked  by  a  visitor  what  brought  him  to 
the  asylum,  gravely  pointed  to  his  head  and  said  :  "  What  never  will  bring  you 
here,  sir :  too  much  brain,  too  much  brain. ' '  There  never  lived  a  genius,  but  felt 
that  the  opinions  of  the  coming  generations  must  conform  to  his  own.  While 
the  man  of  talent  sees  the  faults  of  his  times,  he  generally  utilizes  them ;  Genius, 
however,  sees  what  the  world  will  be  fifty  years  hence,  and  this  is  the  goal  toward 
which  he  labors.  This  is  the  difference  between  statesmen  and  politicians — the 
one  advances  humanity,  he  lives  and  dies  for  his  country,  he  foresees  its  future  ; 
the  other  lives  only  for  the  present,  he  aims  to  advance  himself.  Genius  is 
always  in  the  advance  of  his  times.  He  is  the  lofty  mountain  peak  which  first 
receives  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun,  while  there  is  yet  darkness  in  the  valley  below, 
where  the  common  people  dwell.  As  the  eagle  soars  high  toward  the  source  of 
light,  while  the  little  birds  make  their  nests  in  hedges  near  the  ground,  so  genius 
in  the  flight  of  his  imagination  is  above  the  common  people.  And  as  little  as 
our  bare  eye  can  count  the  strokes  of  the  eagle's  wings,  when  it  appears  only  as 
a  mere  spot  before  the  clouds,  so  little  can  the  average  man  count  and  compre- 
hend the  beatings  of  the  wild-throbbing  heart  of  the  genius.  The  man  of  talent 
usually  is  appreciated  by  his  contemporaries,  because  they  understand  him  ;  the 
man  of  genius,  however,  will  not  be  generally  appreciated  until  mother  earth  has 
received  him  into  her  bosom.  Inasmuch  as  he  lives  for  the  coming  generations, 
his  own  has  but  little  sympathy  with  him,  hence  men  of  genius  are  often  allowed 
to  die  in  neglect  and  want,  while  coming  generations  erect  monuments  in  their 
honor.  Colton  says,  "the  drafts  which  Genius  draws  upon  posterity,  although 
they  may  not  always  be  honored  as  soon  as  they  are  due,  are  sure  to  be  paid  with 
compound  interest  in  the  end."  Posterity  honors  them,  travelers  visit  their 
graves,  towns  dispute  over  the  honor  of  calling  them  their  own.  Men  of  genius 
make  cities  famous,  and  guides  point  out  the  places  where  they  lived,  toiled  and 
died.  Henry  Giles  was  correct  when  he  said  that  the  great  battle  of  Lepanto 
was  famous,  merely  because  Cervantes  fought  in  it  as  a  private  soldier.  Yes, 
the  very  chastisement  which  Genius  inflicts  upon  enemies  makes  them  immortal, 
unenviable  immortality  though  this  be  !  Yes,  immortality  in  a  sense  seems  to  be 
inscribed  upon  everything  Genius  touches. 

As  a  social  being,  Genius  is  a  peculiar  mortal.  He  is  generally  his  own  best 
company.  He  is  never  alone,  except  when  surrounded  by  much  fashionable 
company.  He  may  then,  again,  be  compared  with  the  eagle,  who  has  descended 


16      •  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

from  his  heavenward  flight,  and  now  sits  upon  a  low  tree,  surrounded  by  small 
birds.  Though  they  cannot  harm  him,  their  incessant  twitter  annoys  him. 
Many  men  of  genius  were  but  poor  conversationalists.  Thus  Cicero  says  that 
Scipio  was  never  more  alone  than  when  alone.  Tasso's  conversation  was  neither 
gay  nor  brilliant.  Dante  was  either  taciturn  or  satirical.  Milton  was  unsociable. 
Chaucer's  silence  was  more  agreeable  than  his  conversation.  Ben.  Jonson  used 
to  sit  silent  in  company.  Of  Goldsmith  it  is  said,  that  he  wrote  like  an  angel, 
but  talked  like  a  poor  Poll.  Longfellow  says  that  "  Genius  is  often  dull  and  inert 
in  society,  as  a  blazing  meteor  when  it  descends  to  the  earth  is  only  a  stone." 
Schopenhauer  remarks,  "  that  a  genius  among  common  people  is  like  one  who 
enters  the  ball-room  for  the  purpose  of  dancing  but  finds  only  lame  people  there. " 
It  has  been  asserted  that  silence  and  constant  seriousness  are  unmistakable  char- 
acteristics of  genius,  in  short,  that  a  laughing  person  cannot  be  a  genius.  This  I 
consider  false.  Human  life  presents  much  that  is  comic  and  ludicrous,  and,  as 
Genius  is  a  close  observer,  it  is  not  reasonable  to  expect  him  to  be  serious  under 
all  circumstances.  And  no  one  dare  say  that  men  of  genius  do  not  laugh ;  the 
fact  is  merely  that  in  promiscuous  company  they  are  unsocial.  Among  their 
equals  they  are  generally  found  to  be  good  laughers  and  talkers.  "God  gave 
the  power  of  laughing  to  man  alone,"  says  a  writer.  The  animal  that  lacks 
sensibility  never  laughs.  ' '  The  gravest  creature  to  look  at, ' '  says  Kellgreene, 
"  is  an  ox,"  yet  no  one  would  claim  that  the  gravity  of  an  ox  indicates  learning. 
Silence  is  often  used  as  a  mask  to  cover  stupidity,  yet  such  owls  are  often  credited 
with  much  learning. 

In  his  habits,  Genius  is  generally  disorderly,  for  he  is  too  much  occupied  with 
the  operations  of  his  mind  to  pay  attention  to  the  condition  of  things  around  him. 
The  older  Dumas  used  to  tell  his  son  that  he  would  never  become  a  great  man, 
and  assigned  as  his  reason  the  son's  orderly  habits.  Said  he,  derisively,  "he  has 
twelve  pairs  of  boots,  and  they  stand  side  by  side  in  his  bed-room,  as  straight  as 
if  they  were  being  drilled."  I  would,  however,  not  have  you  understand  me  to 
say  that  a  lack  of  the  sense  of  order  is  an  infallible  sign  of  genius.  While  there 
is  an  apparent  disorder  in  the  dress  and  household  affairs  of  men  of  genius,  there 
is  strict  order  in  their  mental  activity. 

I  will  whisper  in  your  ears,  ladies,  that  men  of  genius  do  not  always  prove  to 
be  good  husbands — they  are  often  neglectful  of  those  gallant  little  attentions  to 
their  wives  which  distinguish  good  husbands.  Being  poor  managers,  their  wives 
are  generally  forced  to  assume  the  reins,  and  for  this  reason  they  are  often  called 
shrews.  While  many  men  of  genius  have  written  sensible  articles  about  women 
and  married  life ;  while  they  have  laid  down  good  sensible  rules  for  selecting  a 
wife,  they  have  not  infrequently  missed  the  mark,  and  married  regular  viragos. 
Many  instances  of  unfortunate  marriages  might  be  cited,  from  Socrates  down  to 
Shakespeare,  Milton,  Byron,  Haydn,  Dickens  and  others,  but  this  subject  had 
better  be  dropped. 

Men  of  genius  usually  are  very  absent-minded,  and  it  is  natural  that  they  should 
be,  for  they  are  more  or  less  always  absorbed  in  thought.  Many  amusing  stories 
may  be  told  to  prove  this. 

It  is  true,  as  has  been  said,  that  there  never  was  a  philosopher  who  could 
endure  the  toothache  patiently.  Men  of  genius  are  bundles  of  nerves,  and  for 


GENIUS.  17 

this  reason  they  shrink  from  pain.  When  suffering  awaits  them,  they  seem  to 
be  unable  to  reason  themselves  into  a  brave  endurance  of  the  same.  Thus  Peele 
is  believed  to  have  died  because  he  was  unable  to  bear  an  operation  which  a  less 
sensitive  man  might  readily  have  endured.  Yet,  while  we  must  record  a 
Demosthenes  who  deserted  his  colors,  and  excused  himself  by  saying  that  "He 
who  turns  and  runs  away  may  live  to  fight  another  day,"  we  might  also  give 
many  instances  of  heroic  bravery  exhibited  by  men  of  genius. 

The  sensitiveness  of  men  of  genius,  especially  of  musicians,  is  proverbial 
Artists,  actors,  orators,  painters,  poets,  are  almost  morbidly  sensitive  to  public 
criticism.  Approbation  is  of  more  value  to  them  than  money,  for  if  they  fail  in 
their  mental  efforts  they  fail  in  everything  ;  hence,  they  are  often  troubled  with 
fear  when  stepping  before  the  public.  Thus,  it  is  said  of  Cicero  that  he  had  a 
bad  night  before  his  great  speech  at  Murena.  Plutarch  says  that  Cicero  not  only 
lacked  courage  in  arms,  but  also  in  his  efforts  at  speaking.  He  began  timidly,  in 
many  cases  never  ceasing  to  tremble,  even  when  he  came  thoroughly  into  the 
current  of  his  speeches.  But  then  there  are  many  guilty  of  the  same  weakness, 
whom  no  one  would  suspect  of  genius.  It  may  well  be  said  that  many  artists  and 
authors  suffered  death,  almost,  because  of  unjust  criticism.  Schiller  said  that  no 
genius  comes  to  a  good  end,  by  which  he  means  that  men  of  great  mental  gifts 
usually  suffer  much.  Was  not  Homer  a  beggar,  and  Torrence  a  slave  ?  Was  not 
Tasso  poor,  and  did  not  Cervantes  die  of  hunger  ?  Bacon  led  a  life  of  distress ; 
Spencer  died  in  want,  and  Mozart  had  not  enough  to  prevent  his  being  buried  in 
a  pauper's  grave.  Yes,  often  the  grim  messenger  of  death  takes  away  our  great 
men  early,  for  it  is  said  that  he  loves  a  shining  mark. 

It  is  a  common  belief  that  Genuis  works  best  in  youth.  A  distinguished 
physician  says  that  the  period  from  thirty  to  forty  is  the  golden  period  for  brain- 
labor,  while  that  from  forty  to  sixty  he  calls  the  silver  period.  There  are,  how- 
ever, many  instances  on  record,  where  great  works  were  accomplished  by  men  of 
advanced  years.  While  Mozart,  Raphael,  Schubert  and  others  produced  their 
great  works  in  youth,  while  some  of  the  world's  great  generals  had  built  up  and 
destroyed  empires  before  they  were  much  advanced  in  years,  we  must  not  lose 
sight  of  the  fact  that  Homer  produced  his  best  works  in  old  age ;  Xenophon 
wrote  when  ninety-two  years  old  ;  jEschylus  wrote  his  greatest  works  three  years 
before  his  death,  when  he  was  sixty-six  years  of  age  ;  Sophocles  wrote  his 
"(Edipus"  in  his  ninety-sixth  year;  Phidias  produced  great  works  in  his 
seventy-sixth  year;  Michael  Angelo  painted  his  celebrated  "Judgment"  be- 
tween his  sixtieth  and  sixty-seventh  years;  Gluck  wrote  his  "Iphegenia"  in 
his  sixty -fifth  year;  Haydn  wrote  the  "Creation"  in  his  sixty-third,  and 
Goethe  produced  his  "  Faust  "  in  the  fifty-seventh  year  of  his  life.  But  these 
are  illustrations  enough. 

Artists  must  picture  and  express  passions,  and  in  order  to  do  this  effectively 
they  must  have  felt  those  passions.  Thus  it  happens  often  that  their  nervous 
systems  suffer,  and  in  order  to  build  up  the  wasting  powers,  they  will  resort  to 
stimulating  drink.  I  do  not  believe,  however,  in  the  theory  advanced  by  some, 
that  men  work  best  under  the  influence  of  strong  drink.  There  may  be  those 
who  are  so  accustomed  to  the  use  of  wine,  that  their  minds  cannot  work 
without  the  aid  of  stimulants,  a  condition  in  which  our  celebrated  Webster  is  said 
2 


18  MUSIC   AND   CULTURE. 

to  have  been.  Let  me  say  most  emphatically  that  if  drunkards  rise  to  emi- 
nence, they  do  so  in  spite  of  their  habits,  not  because  of  them.  It  is  an  error  to 
teach  that  the  moral  law  is  not  as  binding  upon  great  men,  as  it  is  upon  lesser 
mortals. 

As  heavenly  bodies  have  their  satellites,  so  men  of  genius  have  theirs.  These 
hang  on  the  outskirts  of  intellectual  circles,  and  being  unable  to  enter  their 
magic  bounds,  they  imitate  those  within,  and  as  a  rule  they  imitate  their  vices 
first.  Let  us  cover  the  frailties  of  our  great  men  with  the  mantle  of  charity, 
remembering,  that  the  greater  the  power  of  perception  of  wrong,  the  greater 
also  is  its  sting. 

Those  whom  we  admire  we  also  imagine  as  perfect  in  form.  Men  of  genius, 
however,  often  were  insignificant  in  their  appearance,  yes,  many  were  deformed, 
or  suffered  from  maladies.  Milton,  Homer,  Bach  and  Handel  were  blind,  Beet- 
hoven was  deaf,  Weber  and  Byron  both  suffered  from  physical  deformities. 
These  sufferers  were  often  extremely  sensitive  about  their  ailings,  yet  when 
touched  by  the  warmth  of  humor  they  sometimes  made  fun  of  each  other's 
weaknesses.  Talleyrand  was  lame,  Madame  de  Stael  was  cross-eyed.  Said  the 
latter,  on  one  occasion,  ' '  Monsieur,  how  is  that  poor  leg  of  yours, ' '  to  which  the 
statesman  sarcastically  replied  :  ' '  Crooked  as  you  see  it. ' '  Who  can  imagine  a 
Hannibal,  an  Alexander,  an  Achilles  or  a  Hector  as  small,  yet  many  geniuses 
were  very  frail  in  form.  Voltaire  was  puny,  Pope  was  small,  Tom  Moore  was 
likewise,  Milton  was  only  of  moderate  size,  Napoleon  was  not  commanding  in 
person,  Wagner  did  not  reach  much  over  five  feet. 

While  the  mind  of  Genius  is  quick  to  work,  it  often  needs  peculiar  surround- 
ings, in  order  that  it  may  become  active.  Spontini  the  composer  preferred  to 
work  in  a  dark  room ;  Cimoraso  preferred  noise  around  him,  when  he  wrote ; 
Haydn  always  put  on  the  ring  Frederick  the  Great  gave  him,  before  he  went  to 
his  desk,  and  when  his  ideas  ceased  to  flow,  he  resorted  to  his  rosary.  Mozart 
wrote  down  many  ideas  while  playing  billiards.  Beethoven  communed  much 
with  nature  ;  he  moved  frequently,  believing  at  one  time  that  he  could  write  best 
on  the  north  side  of  the  street,  and  then  preferring  the  south  side.  Mendelssohn, 
the  refined,  stimulated  his  mind  by  walking  in  gardens,  as  if  he  gathered  his 
ideas  from  flowers.  It  is  said  of  Halevy  that  he  was  partial  to  the  sound  of 
boiling  water.  Verdi  reads  Ossian's  poems  and  then  writes,  while  Wagner 
dressed  himself  in  the  costumes  of  the  characters  of  which  he  was  writing.  But 
enough. 

Kant,  the  great  German  philosopher,  said  that  just  as  the  powers  of  genius 
display  themselves  differently  in  individuals,  so  they  differ  among  nations.  Thus 
the  Germans  strike  the  root,  Italians,  the  crown  of  the  tree,  the  Frenchman  the 
blossom  and  the  Englishman  the  fruit.  The  greater  the  degree  of  culture  of  a 
people,  the  greater  also  is  the  number  of  geniuses  which  that  people  produces  ; 
the  greater  however  the  love  for  financial  and  mercantile  speculation,  the  smaller 
will  be  the  number  of  geniuses. 

Some  men  of  genius  have  been  great  in  more  than  one  art  or  science.  Thus, 
Michael  Angelo  was  a  painter,  an  architect,  and  a  musician.  It  was  he  who 
made  those  beautiful  bronze  doors,  of  which  it  is  said,  that  they  are  grand  enough 
to  be  the  gates  of  Heaven.  By  the  side  of  him  stands  Leonard!  Da  Vinci,  the 


GENIUS.  19 

architect,  the  sculptor,  the  painter,  the  musician,  the  poet,  the  scientist,  and  the 
mathematician.  Such  geniuses,  however,  are,  among  the  world's  gifted  men, 
what  the  Kohinoor  is  among  diamonds. 

It  has  been  asserted  that  the  powers  of  genius  are  the  product  of  circumstances ; 
others  claim  that  they  are  the  product  of  education.  There  would  not  be  a 
Napoleon  in  history  if  the  French  Revolution  had  not  broken  out.  What  would 
our  Grant,  and  Sherman,  and  Lincoln  have  been  without  the  civil  war?  Let 
us,  however,  bear  in  mind,  that  men  are  made  for  occasions,  not  occasions  for 
men.  When  great  works  are  to  be  done,  God  also  provides  the  men  to  do 
them.  Yet  there  are  many  instances  on  record,  where  men  assumed  their  God- 
appointed  duties  with  hesitating  steps  and  fainting  hearts.  Schopenhauer  says 
that  Genius  comes  at  irregular  times,  and  follows  his  own  course,  like  a  comet, 
yet  he  always  comes  when  needed,  and  he  always  finds  the  path  of  his  career 
unobstructed.  Henry  Giles  says  that  Genius  is  always  born  in  the  right  age  of 
history,  the  proper  spot  on  earth  waits  for  him  and  receives  him.  For  all,  it  is 
at  least  reasonable  to  believe,  that  throughout  history  many  great  minds  failed 
to  shine,  just  as  there  are  many  diamonds  which  have  not  yet  been  found,  and 
never  will  come  to  light. 

But  is  genius  the  product  of  education  ?  Geniuses  are  as  rare  as  are  the  high 
peaks  in  mountainous  countries ;  there  are  few  of  them.  It  is  the  secret  desire  of 
all  men,  more  or  less,  to  have  their  names  inscribed  on  history's  page.  If  genius, 
then,  is  attainable  by  education,  why  have  so  few  secured  the  coveted  prize?  If 
genius  can  be  produced  by  education,  then  education  has  indeed  failed  most 
effectually.  "  Good  will  and  earnest  determination  are  of  great  aid  in  matters  of 
morals,  and  in  study,"  says  a  philosopher,  but  in  art  pursuits,  the  will  itself  is 
helpless.  When  speaking  of  the  lives  of  our  intellectual  princes,  they  are 
described  to  us  as  having  been  thoughtless,  lazy  boys,  who  regarded  but  little 
their  teachers'  instructions.  They  had,  however,  a  capacity  for  work,  and  if  they 
failed  to  apply  themselves,  the  fault  usually  lay  with  the  teacher  and  his  system, 
and  not  with  the  boy  and  his  powers.  The  fact  that  these  boys  became  men  of 
fame  has  produced  the  impression  that  Genius  does  not  work,  that  he  need  not 
labor  like  other  men.  This  is  a  false  notion.  Men  of  genius  always  were  hard 
workers ;  they  are  not  only  profound  thinkers,  but  quite  frequently  they  are 
excellent  scholars  ;  they  are,  as  a  rule,  hard  students — but  after  their  own  methods 
and  with  their  own  purposes.  When  old  enough,  they  defy  the  yoke  of  tutelage 
and  walk  out  boldly  into  paths  of  their  own.  Who  would  assert  that  a  Shake- 
speare, a  Milton,  a  Raphael,  a  Michael  Angelo,  a  Dante,  a  Goethe,  a  Schiller,  a 
Beethoven,  a  Mozart,  a  Luther,  a  Napoleon,  a  Bismarck,  a  Franklin,  a  Webster, 
a  Clay,  and  many  others,  were  made  in  the  school-room  what  they  finally  proved 
to  be.  From  whom  did  these  men  obtain  their  superior  powers  ?  Where  did 
they  light  the  torches  which  have  burned  throughout  centuries  ?  They  were 
illuminated  by  the  spark  divine  which  comes  only  from  the  fire  divine.  Genius 
is  a  gift  which  is  laid  by  the  side  of  the  little  babe,  and  whosoever  has  not  re- 
ceived it  at  his  birth,  need  never  expect  to  receive  it  in  later  years,  no  matter 
how  superior  his  educational  advantages  may  be.  Genius  is  a  gift,  education 
and  learning  are  acquirements,  and  it  will  be  easily  proven  that  the  inborn 
qualities  are  stronger  than  those  that  are  acquired. 


20  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

Swift  says :  "When  a  genius  appears,  you  may  know  him  by  this  sign,  that 
generally  the  dunces  are  in  a  confederacy  against  him."  "If  you  have  the 
power  of  genius,"  says  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau,  ''you  will  know  genius  ;  if  you 
have  it  not,  you  will  never  know  it.  Does  a  grand  piece  of  music  cause  the  tears 
to  flow  ?  Does  it  cause  your  nerves  to  vibrate  ?  If  so,  you  have  a  spark  of 
genius;  but,"  adds  the  philosopher,  "if  you  remain  cold,  do  not  even  inquire 
about  the  workings  of  genius. ' '  Be  careful,  however,  that  you  are  not  deceived 
by  the  false  article.  There  were  false  prophets,  and  there  are  false  geniuses. 
Such  men,  of  course,  must  assume  and  imitate  the  eccentricities  of  genius  in 
order  to  appear  like  it ;  for  the  power  of  thought  and  the  flight  of  imagination 
of  men  of  genius  no  one  can  assume  or  imitate.  The  donkey  may  put  on  the 
lion's  skin,  yet  when  he  opens  his  mouth  we  all  will  know  him  to  be  a  donkey. 
A  great  Grecian  philosopher,  who  was  remarkable  for  the  negligence  of  his  dress, 
met  a  young  seeker  of  fame  with  a  robe  full  of  holes.  The  philosopher  stepped 
up  to  huii  and  reprovingly  said  :  "Friend,  out  of  the  holes  of  your  cloak  looks 
your  vanity."  Be  not  deceived  by  the  holes  in  men's  clothes ;  do  not  judge  by 
outward  signs.  As  iron  is  drawn  toward  the  magnet,  so  will  you  feel  the  power 
of  Genius  when  you  come  in  contact  with  it,  be  it  through  his  works  or  through 
personal  intercourse.  Says  Bulwer  :  "  Fine  natures  are  like  fine  poems ;  a  glance 
at  the  first  two  lines  suffices  for  a  guess  into  the  beauty  that  waits  for  you,  if  you 
read  on." 

An  old  legend  says,  that  while  the  gods  were  distributing  the  possessions  of 
this  earth,  giving  to  the  king  the  throne,  to  the  merchant  the  seas,  to  the  soldier 
the  weapons,  to  the  priests  the  temple,  to  the  hunter  the  woods,  to  the  farmer 
the  soil,  etc. ,  Genius  was  out  wandering,  dreaming,  and  feasting  his  eyes  on  the 
beauties  of  nature.  When  at  last  he  came  in,  everything  had  been  given  away, 
and  there  was  nothing  left  for  him.  But  the  gods  took  pity  on  him,  and  in  order 
to  compensate  him  for  his  losses,  they  bade  him  welcome  upon  Parnassus  Hill, 
whenever  he  desired  to  come,  and  gave  him  the  freedom  to  go  in  and  out  among 
the  gods. 

The  light  of  genius  is  given  to  but  few,  so  that  it  may  shine  all  the  brighter  on 
the  road  of  human  progress.  According  to  physicians,  talent  is  often  inherited, 
but  genius  is  rarely  ever  transmitted  to  posterity.  It  is  a  gift,  not  an  inheritance. 
Men  may  be  their  fathers'  sons,  or  their  sons'  fathers,  but  seldom  are  father  and 
son  alike  famous.  If  genius  is  a  gift,  has  not  the  giver  the  right  to  bestow  it 
upon  whomsoever  he  chooses  ?  And  thus  we  find  that  the  poor  lad  Burns  has 
the  gift  bestowed  upon  him,  by  the  side  of  the  sons  of  kings  and  lords.  Genius 
is,  by  birth,  the  true  nobleman  of  the  human  family.  Neither  cross  nor  stars  can 
increase  his  dignity.  Putting  a  ribbon  or  an  order  on  his  breast  is  as  ridiculous 
as  it  would  be  to  daub  colors  on  the  face  of  a  statue,  or  to  hang  a  cloak  on  a  finely 
cut  piece  of  marble.  Being  thus  highy  favored,  his  powers  for  good  or  evil  are 
so  much  the  greater,  and  so  likewise  is  his  responsibility. 

Though  we  may  not  be  geniuses  we  are  nevertheless  the  fellow-beings  of  these 
great  men,  and  this  thought  should  inspire  us.  Let  us  study  their  lives  and 
their  works,  for  by  communing  with  them,  we  become  more  and  more  like  unto 
them.  Who  can  sum  up  all  the  good  that  has  been  done  throughout  the  world 
and  throughout  all  ages,  by  the  works  of  men  of  genius,  by  art  and  literature  ? 


GENIUS.  21 

When  viewing  the  highest  mountains  of  the  earth  or  when  diving  down  into 
the  lowest  mines,  when  exploring  the  ice-bound  regions  of  the  North  Pole,  or 
when  wandering  through  the  woods  and  along  the  immense  rivers  of  the  hot  zones 
with  their  variety  of  scenery  and  wild  animals,  when  measuring  the  Falls  of 
Niagara,  or  when  viewing  Vesuvius  in  convulsive  action,  one  may  well  cry  out  in 
the  Bible  language,  "Great  and  marvelous  are  Thy  works,  oh  Lord  God 
Almighty. ' '  But  there  is  something  far  greater  than  these  wonders  of  nature, 
and  that  is  the  mind  of  man.  Though  electricity  travels  quickly,  there  is  some- 
thing that  travels  more  rapidly,  and  that  is  human  thought.  How  sad  it  is  that 
while  men  climb  the  highest  mountains,  while  they  dive  into  seas  and  rivers,  while 
they  spend  years  in  the  ice-bound  regions  of  the  North,  or  waste  away  under  the 
tropic  sun  of  the  South,  and  all  this  for  the  sake  of  scientific  investigation,  they 
do  so  little  to  fathom  their  own  hearts  or  to  study  their  own  minds.  Truly  did 
Pope  say  :  ' '  Know  Thyself;  the  proper  study  for  mankind  is  man. ' '  Though  the 
mountains  and  the  seas  are  great,  the  one  shall  tumble  in,  and  the  other  shall 
dry  up,  but  your  souls  and  mine  shall  live  forever.  Oh  blessed  immortality,  in 
which  we  shall  be  near  the  great  geniuses  that  ever  lived  on  earth,  when  we 
shall  comprehend  the  mysterious  connection  between  mind  and  matter,  when  we 
shall  forever  be  near  the  source  of  love  and  light,  and  all  that  is  good  and  beauti- 
ful, when  we  shall  be  near  the  great  Genius  above,  whose  works  here  are  so 
grand  in  their  perfection.  Are  there  any  who  seek  an  additional  evidence  of  the 
existence  of  a  God  ?  Let  Genius,  let  the  mind  of  man  be  this  evidence,  for  God 
did  not  manifest  himself  half  so  well  in  the  greatest  mountains  or  the  mightiest 
seas  of  the  globe,  as  he  manifested  himself  in  the  creation  of  the  genius  of  man. 


SUCCESS  IN  PROFESSIONAL  LIFE. 


An  Address  delivered  before  the  Graduating  Class  of  the  Medical  Department  of  Wooster 
University,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 

My  ignorance  of  your  most  noble  science  forestalls  all  attempts  on  my  part  to 
say  anything  in  connection  with  it  that  might  prove  of  benefit  to  you.  I  might 
have  endeavored  to  interest  you  in  the  health  influences  of  music,  its  effects  upon 
the  nervous  system,  upon  our  emotions  and  through  them  upon  our  thoughts, 
but  I  preferred  not  to  undertake  this  subject,  interesting  as  it  is,  because  I  have 
but  recently  published  some  articles  with  reference  to  it.  Neither  would  it  be 
appropriate  to  speak  here  of  the  beauties  and  growth  of  the  art  which  I  have 
studied  and  taught  for  many  years.  There  is,  however,  one  subject,  which  is,  or 
which  at  least  ought  to  be  of  mutual  interest,  namely,  that  of  a  successful  prof es- 
sional  life.  My  address,  therefore,  shall  simply  express  some  practical  advice 
to  you,  how  to  live  and  how  to  act  in  life,  and  I  hope  that  what  I  say  will  not 
be  spoken  altogether  in  vain.  You  are  about  to  take  one  of  the  most  serious 
steps  in  your  lives.  The  first  half,  that  of  preparation,  has  at  last  come  to  an 
end,  and  you  are  now  ready  to  enter  the  busy  world,  for  better  or  for  worse ; 
let  us  sincerely  hope  for  the  former.  Life  is  a  most  serious  reality,  so  is  your 
profession  one  of  seriousness,  and  necessarily  my  remarks  must  partake  of  the 
same  character. 

It  is  the  aim  and  ambition  of  every  thinking  man  to  make  life  a  success,  that 
is,  to  make  it  useful  and  pleasant.  Many  men  have  spent  useful  lives,  but  they 
were  far  from  being  pleasant,  and  so  one  finds  men  everywhere  who  endeavor  to 
spend  their  lives  pleasantly  without  making  them  useful.  The  former  class  chal- 
lenges our  respect,  the  latter  deserves  our  pity.  There  is  no  happiness  in  life 
without  usefulness,  and  this  is  the  one  cardinal  truth  I  wish  you  always  to  keep 
before  your  minds.  I  take  it  for  granted  that  you  mean  to  be  useful,  for  your 
profession  points  to  a  life  of  usefulness  of  the  noblest  kind ;  but  look  to  your 
right  and  left,  and  see  the  many  lawyers,  doctors,  preachers  and  teachers  who 
have  started  out  in  life  with  honest  intentions  and  with  the  brightest  of  pros- 
pects for  usefulness,  but  who  finally  failed  in  life's  work.  How  many  are  there 
whose  professional  lives  are  unpleasant  to  themselves  as  well  as  to  those  with 
whom  they  come  in  contact  ?  This  is  often  owing  to  wrong  ideas  of  life,  to  a 
lack  of  knowledge  of  human  nature.  Having  started  wrong,  having,  perhaps, 
had  no  friend  to  warn  or  to  guide  them,  they  went  on  and  on,  until  they  became 
pessimists,  leading  lives  of  bitterness  and  torment.  How  much  good  might  such 
men  have  accomplished  had  they  known  how  to  safely  steer  their  youthful  crafts 

22 


SUCCESS  IN  PROFESSIONAL  LIFE.  23 

while  passing  through  the  breakers  near  the  shore.  But  by  some  neglect  or  mis- 
take on  the  part  of  teachers,  parents  or  themselves,  they  sprung  a  leak  some- 
where, and  after  having  once  passed  out  upon  the  high  seas,  it  was  impossible  to 
return  or  to  repair  the  damage.  Says  a  writer,  our  sins  will  be  punished  in  the 
world  to  come,  but  for  the  acts  of  our  own  stupidity,  for  our  lack  of  judgment, 
for  many  errors  of  teachers  and  parents,  we  must  pay  the  penalty  here  on  earth. 
Close  observation  is  necessary  for  correct  judgment,  and  he  who  would  be  happy 
in  life,  as  far  as  mortal  man  may  be  happy,  must  be  a  close  observer  of  men  and 
situations.  The  reason  men  bump  their  heads  and  stub  their  toes,  is  because 
they  fail  to  look  where  they  step,  because  they  fail  to  see  what  is  before  them. 

You  will  have  to  deal  with  men  and  women  of  all  grades  and  classes,  you  will 
meet  them  in  their  worst  moods  and  conditions,  and  it  behooves  you,  more  than 
men  of  other  professions,  to  study  human  character.  Would  you  be  masters  of 
the  situation,  you  must  know  those  with  whom  you  have  dealings ;  more  than 
that,  you  must  thoroughly  know  yourselves.  Weigh  and  scrutinize  carefully 
men's  characters,  study  their  mental  and  moral  make-up,  as  well  as  their  bodily 
condition,  for  thus  only  will  you  become  successful  physicians. 

"This  world  is  a  mirror,"  says  Lichtenstein  ;  "  if  a  donkey  looks  into  it,  you 
cannot  expect  to  see  the  face  of  an  apostle  or  that  of  a  physician  looking  out  of 
it."  This  world  will  be  to  you  exactly  as  you  see  it,  as  you  meet  it  and  fashion 
it.  If  your  views  are  correct  you  will  be  able  to  steer  clear  of  much  trouble, 
thereby  putting  you  on  the  vantage  ground  in  making  life  useful.  The  avoid- 
ance of  trouble  is  a  species  of  happiness  ;  it  is  a  sort  of  negative  happiness  that 
may  be  made  to  spread  over  a  greater  portion  of  our  lives  than  the  actual  enjoy- 
ment of  social  pleasures  and  creature  comforts  will  reach.  If  your  views  of  h'fe 
are  false,  trouble  is  sure  to  ring  your  office  bell  at  all  hours,  day  and  night. 
Talk  not  to  me  of  luck,  good  or  bad.  That  which  some  men  bemoan  as  bad  luck 
is  simply  bad  management — a  lack  of  good  sound  sense  and  tact.  Each  of  you 
has  it  in  his  power  to  make  life  useful  and  happy,  provided  you  understand  life 
and  its  issues  and  have  the  will  to  do  your  full  duty.  Many  men  with  diplomas 
and  high-class  grades  have  had  to  succumb  to  men  of  lesser  ability  and  lower 
standing  simply  because  they  lacked  worldly  wisdom.  He  who  lacks  this  precious 
gift  is  helpless,  in  spite  of  friends  and  wealth. 

It  is  of  the  utmost  importance  that  you  start  right,  for  if  you  take  the  wrong 
track,  you  will  find  it  a  difficult  task  in  later  years  to  switch  off.  Doubtless, 
during  the  first  few  weeks  or  months  of  your  medical  career,  you  will  have  plenty 
of  time  for  self-study  ;  but  be  assured  of  this  fact,  that  whether  you  have  work 
to  do,  or  whether  you  are  simply  waiting  to  be  called  out,  the  world-lessons  will 
begin  at  once  and  continue  until  some  other  doctor  will  say  of  you  :  "He  is  dead  ; 
bury  him  out  of  sight." 

You  must  possess  very  superior  powers  if  you  expect  to  impregnate  the 
world  with  one  new  idea.  In  other  words,  if  you  aspire  to  give  the  world  new 
lessons.  You  must  be  made  of  rare  stuff  if  you  would  instruct  your  profes- 
sional brethren  and  lead  them  onward.  Rather  be  prepared  to  be  led  and  to 
submit  to  many  conditions  which  in  your  judgment  are  wrong.  The  world  is  a 
hard  pupil,  and  so  is  it  a  hard  teacher.  It  knocks  ideas  into  men's  heads  if  they 
are  taken  willingly,  and  it  causes  us  to  suffer  if  we  stubbornly  hold  fast  to 


24  SUCCESS  IN  PROFESSIONAL  LIFE. 

false  principles  and  notions.  I  would  not,  however,  have  you  understand  me  to 
say  that  you  should  conform  to  the  world  in  all  things.  It  is  not  safe,  nor  is  it 
always  right,  to  be  on  the  popular  side.  It  is,  however,  prudent  and  wise  at  all 
tunes  to  be  moderate  in  speech.  Bear  in  mind  that  you  are  not  called  upon  on 
all  occasions  to  correct  what  you  think  is  wrong  in  this  world  of  ours.  Would 
you  meet  with  tolerant  treatment,  be  tolerant  to  others.  But  if  you  feel  it  to  be 
your  duty  to  contradict  public  opinion,  if  you  feel  called  upon  to  gainsay  and  to 
expose  error,  let  me  beseech  you  to  examine  well  the  timber  of  your  platform ; 
next,  see  to  it  that  you  stand  solidly  upon  it,  keep  your  temper,  and  if  you  finally 
must  lock  horns  with  public  opinion,  do  so  with  earnestness.  My  experience, 
however,  is,  that  it  is  best  to  keep  out  of  public  disputations,  for  he  that  is  over- 
come by  your  argument  rarely  ever  forgives  you  for  having  defeated  him,  while 
if  you  yourself  ai'e  defeated,  you  are  apt  to  experience  a  great  deal  of  useless 
irritation.  Unless  truth  or  a  great  principle  is  at  stake,  meddle  not  with  loud- 
mouthed talkers  ;  let  them  alone.  Strive  to  know  your  powers  well,  so  that  you 
may  not  overrate  them  in  any  contest.  Never  undertake  that  which  is  beyond 
them,  but  use  eveiy  means  to  strengthen,  to  increase  your  powers,  and  in  a  silent 
way  to  deepen  and  widen  your  influence. 

The  man  that  is  not  honest  to  himself  cannot  be  honest  to  others.  This  is  an 
old  saying.  Of  course,  you  are  honest  to  others  and  to  yourselves,  and  in  this 
light  of  honesty  I  desire  to  ask  you  now,  What  is  your  aim  in  practicing  medi- 
cine? If  you  aim,  in  the  main,  at  wealth,  you  are  on  the  wrong  road,  and  you  had 
better  turn  off  at  once.  But  if  you  desire  to  aid  mankind,  if  you  see  before  your- 
selves a  world  in  suffering,  and  aim  to  help  it  through  your  professional  skill,  if 
you  desire  to  improve  the  condition  of  the  human  family  as  far  as  lies  within 
your  professional  power,  then,  indeed,  are  you  to  be  congratulated,  for  you  are 
the  right  men  in  the  right  places,  and  I  bid  you  God-speed,  for  this  track  is  safe 
and  clear  to  the  end  of  the  road.  Of  course,  you  must  live,  you  must  earn  money, 
and  no  one  says  you  should  not,  but  this  I  do  say,  that  the  man  who  lives 
and  labors  for  money  exclusively,  who  sees  his  sole  reward  in  earthly  gains,  is,  so 
far  as  I  can  judge,  not  worthy  of  the  name  of  a  healer  or  a  physician. 

Be  men  of  honor  and  integrity,  of  soberness  and  moderation  in  all  things. 
Guard  your  personal  and  professional  good  names  with  jealous  care,  for  hence- 
forth you  cannot  separate  the  two.  The  physician  whose  good  name  is  even 
tainted,  cannot  expect  to  be  called  into  respectable  homes,  either  on  professional 
or  social  grounds.  Were  I  a  physician,  nothing  would  sting  and  wound  my  pride 
quicker  than  to  feel  that  while,  as  a  physician,  I  am  sought,  as  a  man  I  am  only 
tolerated  or  even  detested.  First  see  to  character,  for  without  it  neither  wealth 
nor  reputation  will  give  you  any  comfort.  Doubtless,  in  time  you  will  be  con- 
fronted by  many  temptations,  but  bear  in  mind  that  yielding  to  wrong  is  like  put- 
ting chains  around  you ;  it  is  like  hanging  a  millstone  around  your  neck.  You 
may  carry  it  for  a  while,  but  the  load  is  sure  to  sink  you  in  the  end.  Let  me 
beg  of  you  to  keep  your  consciences  clean,  for  Shakespeare  said  that  conscience 
makes  cowards  of  us,  or  something  to  that  effect.  No  doubt  many  secrets,  profes- 
sional and  domestic,  will  be  revealed  to  you.  Keep  these  sacredly  within  your 
breasts,  like  men  of  honor  and  sterling  integrity.  The  talking  doctor  is  in  con- 
stant danger  of  being  led  into  trouble  by  inquisitive  people.  Parade  not  your 


SUCCESS  IN  PROFESSIONAL  LIFE.  25 

cases  nor  your  cures  before  the  public ;  let  others  speak  well  of  you.  Rather 
say  too  little,  for  fear  you  might  say  too  much.  It  is  still  better  to  say  nothing, 
for  if  you  have  not  as  yet  learned  the  disposition  of  society  gossips,  you  will  dis- 
cover to  your  own  sorrow  that  they  are  not  great  lovers  of  truth.  Each,  desiring 
to  make  the  news  more  effective  and  startling,  will  add  something  to  it,  until 
truth  has  become  a  hideous  lie. 

Talent  is  a  gift  which  all  of  us  possess,  genius  is  bestowed  upon  but  few.  It  is 
gratifying  to  rise  and  have  one's  name  mentioned  honorably,  but  for  all  it  must 
be  regarded  as  a  truism,  that  a  day  well  spent  is  better  than  years  of  honorable 
distinction.  Honors  alone  make  no  man  happy.  It  is  pleasant  enough  to  have 
enough  of  this  world's  goods  to  be  relieved  of  the  uncertainties  of  life,  but 
wealth  alone  makes  no  man  happy.  Only  that  which  a  man  is,  says  a  philosopher, 
makes  him  truly  happy,  not  what  he  has.  It  is  better  you  should  be  worthy  of 
honors,  and  not  have  them  meted  out  to  you,  than  to  secure  them  upon  false 
grounds.  Neither  honors  nor  wealth  will  make  you  truly  useful,  but  character 
and  sound  learning  are  great  powers  in  themselves,  they  are  the  true  levers  of 
usefulness.  Not  what  the  world  says  of  you  constitutes  true  greatness,  but  what 
you  are  in  the  sight  of  God.  The  consciousness  of  true  inward  merit  makes  any 
man  strong,  deception  makes  him  weak. 

Soberness  and  frugality  also  are  necessary  for  your  success.  A  physician 
should  be  a  sober-minded  man,  he  should  be  a  model  man.  Would  you  trust  a 
druggist  given  to  drunken  spells  with  the  filling  of  an  important  prescription? 
If  not,  how  can  you  expect  the  public  to  trust  a  physician  guilty  of  such  wrongs? 
Machinists,  engineers,  even  common  laborers,  are  discharged  if  found  guilty  of 
drunkenness.  What  right  has  a  physician  to  indulge  in  this  vice  when  we  entrust 
him  with  health  and  life,  our  two  greatest  earthly  possessions  ?  Be  it  far  from 
me  to  suspect  you  of  evil  habits  ;  my  object  is  simply  to  warn  you  in  time,  so 
that  you  may  start  out  on  the  right  track,  for  it  is  a  tremendous  task  for  an 
habitual  drunkard  to  switch  off  from  the  road  that  leads  to  destruction.  Be  te^n- 
perate  in  all  things ;  in  working  and  seeking  pleasures,  in  eating  as  well  as  in 
speaking.  Trust  not  too  much  to  your  powers  of  endurance  ;  keep  an  eye  on 
your  own  health.  A  poor,  but  a  healthy  doctor  is  a  happier  man  than  a  sick  king. 
A  healthy  doctor  is  an  inspiring  spectacle  ;  a  sick  doctor  is  a  doubly  distressing 
object  to  behold.  Be  also  temperate  in  your  desire  for  wealth.  Property  is 
desirable,  as  has  been  already  stated ;  on  the  other  hand,  its  possession  entails 
much  care,  and  the  desire  to  become  rich  may  become  as  strong  a  passion  as  is  the 
desire  for  intoxicating  drink.  Beware  of  it.  Every  thinking  man  considers  it  his 
duty  to  lay  enough  aside  during  the  years  of  activity  to  support  himself  in  old 
age.  Your  knowledge  and  skill  is  as  a  bond  from  which  you  cut  away  every 
year  so  many  coupons.  But  remember  that  there  comes  a  time  when  there  are 
no  more  coupons  for  you  to  cut  away.  It  is  a  national  failing  of  ours  to  trust 
the  young,  and  to  shove  aside  the  aged,  denouncing  them  as  "  old  fogies."  In 
Europe,  aged  physicians  are  sought  first,  because  of  their  great  experience  and 
superior  skill.  In  America,  we  often  prefer  to  trust  the  young  and  inexperi- 
enced, believing  them  to  have  newer  ideas  and  perhaps  clearer  heads.  A  greater 
mistake  never  was  made.  You  may  derive  advantages  from  this  error,  but  remem- 
ber that  you  are  also  sure  to  suffer  from  it  in  the  long  run.  Be  saving  then. 


26  SUCCESS  IN   PROFESSIONAL  LIFE. 

Beware,  however,  of  that  second  American  vice,  that  of  striving  to  accumulate 
fortune  quickly,  regardless  of  the  means  used.  To  acquire  wealth  is  not  your 
mission;  your  aim  should  be  higher,  for  by  the  side  of  the  minister  of  the 
gospel,  who  aims  to  cure  men's  souls,  and  by  the  side  of  the  teacher,  who  strives 
to  dispel  ignorance  and  error,  your  calling  is  one  of  the  noblest,  for  you  are  called 
upon  to  cure  those  ills  that  make  men  miserable  and  prevent  them  from  being 
useful  and  happy.  Only  a  useful  professional  life  will  make  you  happy. 

Many  men  fail  in  life  because  of  a  lack  of  politeness  and  cheerfulness.  It  is 
your  duty  to  be  polite,  but  true  politeness  cannot  be  put  on  or  off  at  pleasure ;  it 
must  be  a  part  of  our  natures  in  order  that  it  may  pass  for  the  genuine  article. 
Said  a  philosopher,  "  politeness  is  a  coin  of  no  intrinsic  value ; "  how  foolish  then 
to  be  stingy  with  it.  Yet  there  are  men  so  proud  and  close-fisted  that  they  cannot 
afford  to  be  polite  to  others,  for  fear  they  bestow  more  than  they  receive. 
Politeness  is  a  grace  that  recommends  us  in  the  "eyes  of  others;  it  puts  people 
mutually  at  their  ease.  Cultivate  it  then,  and  exercise  it  toward  all,  even 
toward  those  who  belong  to  a  different  medical  school.  It  is  wisdom  to  be  polite, 
for  many  a  physician  has  lost  patronage  because  of  a  lack  of  civility.  With 
politeness  cultivate  cheerfulness.  A  cheerful  doctor  is  as  a  ray  of  sunlight  in 
a  gloomy  room.  No  one  likes  the  grumbling,  growling  doctor  about  the  house, 
if,  indeed,  it  can  be  said  at  any  time  we  really  like  to  see  a  doctor  enter  our 
homes.  Cheerfulness  betokens  a  contented,  calm  frame  of  mind ;  it  indicates 
inward  repose,  which  begets  confidence  and  restfulness  in  your  patient,  while  the 
fretful,  nervous  doctor  produces  exactly  the  opposite  effects.  Physicians  need  to 
cultivate  much  cheerfulness,  for  they  see  much  of  the  misery  of  life,  and  despite 
their  best  efforts  to  alleviate  it,  unjust  criticism  is  sure  to  be  meted  out  to  them. 
Cheerfulness  and  health  go  hand  in  hand  ;  a  cheerful  doctor,  therefore,  means  a 
healthy  doctor.  A  growling,  ill-natured  doctor  is  sick  somewhere,  and  one  feels 
like  saying  to  him,  first  cure  yourself  before  you  attempt  to  cure  others. 

A  cheerful  sick  room  is  as  essential  as  a  clean  and  well-ventilated  sick  room. 
Cheer  brightens  things.  I  believe  in  seriousness  and  earnestness,  but  I  have  often 
observed  that  sick  rooms  are  made  unnecessarily  gloomy  by  alluding  to  the 
uncertainty  of  life  and  the  certainty  of  death.  Be  watchful  in  this  particular, 
else  your  medicine  as  well  as  your  own  cheerfulness  is  sure  to  be  counteracted. 
Probably  the  hours  a  young  physician  spends  during  the  first  months  of  his  pro- 
fessional career  will  be  lonely  and  trying  in  the  extreme,  and  there  is  danger  that 
disappointment  and  gloom  may  make  a  permanent  impression  upon  his  character. 
Keep  bright ;  be  hopeful,  and  remember  that  all  beginning  is  difficult.  Remem- 
ber that  others  have  traveled  the  same  road  before  you  and  succeeded. 

There  is  another  enemy  calculated  to  destroy  cheerfulness,  and  this  is  too  great 
sensitiveness.  Take  no  bad  meaning  out  of  every  incidental  expression  and  apply 
it  to  yourselves.  If  you  do,  you  will  be  constantly  in  hot  water.  A  noble-hearted 
minister,  while  speaking  on  the  subject  of  sensitiveness,  told  the  following  incident : 
He  had  unexpectedly  been  called  away,  and  for  this  reason  could  not  prepare  a  ser- 
mon for  Sunday  morning.  He  selected,  therefore,  an  old  one  which  he  had  preached 
some  three  years  previously,  hoping  that  no  one  would  remember  it.  His  con- 
science, however,  smote  him,  and  after  the  services  were  over  he  remained  in  the 
pulpit  for  fear  some  one  would  speak  to  him  about  the  old  sermon.  At  the  door, 


SUCCESS  IN  PROFESSIONAL  LIFE.  27 

however,  stood  the  choir-leader,  who  was  evidently  waiting  to  see  his  pastor,  and 
as  there  was  no  escape,  he  arose  and  came  to  the  door.  Seeing  an  expression  of  dis- 
satisfaction in  the  musician's  face,  he  asked  for  the  cause.  "  I  might  as  well  have 
stayed  at  home  to-day,"  was  the  quick  reply.  This  went  to  the  minister's  heart 
like  an  arrow,  and  he  quickly  sought  his  home.  He  could  not  eat,  neither  would 
slumber  come  to  his  eyes.  The  choir-leader's  words  were  ringing  in  his  ears  like 
a  sentence  from  the  bench.  At  last  he  made  up  his  mind  to  see  the  musician, 
and  while  in  a  store  next  day  he  met  him.  "What  did  you  mean  by  that  ex- 
pression yesterday?  "  asked  the  preacher.  "  Why,  did  you  not  notice,"  said  the 
offended  musician,  "how  poorly  the  choir  sang?"  A  breath  of  relief  escaped 
the  minister's  lips,  and  he  made  up  his  mind  to  two  things  :  first,  not  to  preach 
an  old  sermon  again ;  second,  not  to  be  too  sensitive  and  suspicious. 

Said  a  city  physician :  "  More  than  once  I  felt  miserable  because  I  saw  another 
physician's  carriage  before  the  house  of  a  family  who  used  to  call  upon  me.  At 
last  I  found  out  that  he  called  next  door,  but  had  tied  his  horse  before  my 
patron's  house  because  there  was  a  good  hitching  post."  How  many  useless  sor- 
rows we  suffer  because  we  are  too  sensitive,  because  we  come  too  quickly  to  con- 
clusions !  Do  not  take  trouble  at  interest ;  jump  not  hastily  at  conclusions.  Be 
faithful  in  the  discharge  of  duty,  and  let  the  rest  take  care  of  itself.  Public 
opinion  is  not  always  correct,  but  you  may  put  it  down  as  a  rule  that  no  man  can 
afford  to  defy  it.  Set  not  your  happiness  upon  it,  else  you  will  be  tossed  about 
like  a  chip  in  an  eddy.  If  you  are  the  right  kind  of  men,  you  need  not  feel  the 
public  pulse  eveiy  week  or  every  day  in  order  to  find  out  whether  its  beatings  are 
favorable  to  you  or  not.  I  am  by  no  means  a  pessimist,  but  I  make  free  to  say, 
that  this  world  indulges  much  in  selfishness,  in  slander,  and  deceitfulness,  and 
that  a  great  deal  of  narrow-minded  prejudice  prevails  in  all  strata  of  society.  Add 
to  this  an  immense  amount  of  ignorance  prevailing  as  yet,  like  cobwebs  in  an  old 
building,  and  you  will  get  a  correct  estimate  of  public  opinion  and  public  criticism. 
The  public  tongue  is  like  a  wasp  :  it  delights  to  sting  because  it  is  its  nature  to  do 
so.  Whatever  you  do,  let  not  the  sting  raise  a  blister,  for  in  the  public  eye  this 
betokens  a  bad  condition  of  blood,  and  is  regarded  as  a  sure  indication  of  guilt. 
Keep  calm,  hold  your  own  tongues  when  the  public  tongue  wags,  but  if  you  must 
speak,  be  first  sure  that  you  use  the  right  words. 

A  conceited  man  is  a  harmless  sort  of  a  creature.  He  hurts  no  one.  Like  a 
little  balloon,  he  bobs  up  and  down,  inflicting  no  injury  whatsoever,  no  matter 
how  hard  he  hits  us.  All  conceited  people  are  cordially  disliked,  because  conceit 
presupposes  ignorance  on  our  part.  To  try  to  make  us  believe  that  you  measure 
six  feet  when  we  know  that  you  measure  but  five  and  a  half,  is  provokingly  im- 
pudent. To  step  on  the  scales  with  pockets  full  of  stones,  says  Schopenhauer, 
and  then  ask  us  to  believe  that  you  weigh  heavy,  puts  us  in  the  light  of  igno- 
rance, as  if  we  were  too  stupid  to  see  your  own  cunning.  Be  assured,  young  gen- 
tlemen, your  brain  must  be  filled  with  something.  If  there  is  no  solid  learning, 
there  is  usually  air  to  fill  the  empty  space.  What  a  blessing  it  is  that  hollow  heads 
do  not  pain  us  as  hollow  teeth  ?  If  it  were  not  so  we  would  see  a  great  deal  of 
suffering.  It  is  the  world's  disposition  to  ridicule  the  conceited  man,  and  while 
it  is  not  generous  to  do  so,  many  delight  in  putting  a  pin  into  the  air-pillow  on 
which  the  conceited  one  rests  so  contentedly.  This  operation  is  usually  painful, 


28  SUCCESS  IN  PROFESSIONAL  LIFE. 

nor  is  there  any  medicine  to  be  found  that  will  relieve  such  suffering.  Leave  all 
conceits,  if  you  have  any,  right  here,  and  if  you  are  free  from  them  guard  against 
this  folly  with  an  ever-watchful  eye.  Always  endeavor  to  see  yourselves  as 
others  see  you,  and  this  again  means  self-examination,  which  has  been  com- 
mended to  you  at  the  very  outset  of  my  remarks. 

Many  people  seek  their  happiness  in  social  pleasures.  Allow  me  to  repeat  a 
lesson  already  given  you,  namely,  that  there  is  greater  happiness  found  in  the  art 
of  avoiding  trouble.  This  was  one  of  Aristotle's  lessons,  and  if  he  was  a  heathen 
he  was  a  wise  man.  Pleasures  are  often  mere  mirages,  at  best  they  give  no  satis- 
faction, for  after  they  have  been  enjoyed,  there  arises  a  desire  for  other  and  still 
greater  gratification.  Not  all  our  desires  can  be  fulfilled,  and  the  disappointment 
arising  from  this  is  apt  to  produce  discontent.  He  who  asks  the  least  of  h'fe  but 
gives  most  to  it,  he  is  the  happiest  man.  All  real  social  and  bodily  pleasures 
fill  but  a  very  limited  period  of  our  lives,  while  the  pleasures  arising  from  a 
quiet  life,  free  from  troubles,  may  be  enjoyed  every  hour  and  day.  The  art  of 
avoiding  trouble,  therefore,  is  a  pleasure-giving  faculty,  and  I  ask  you  earnestly 
to  seek  more  of  this  negative  joy  than  that  which  may  be  called  positive.  Trou- 
bles must  and  will  come  to  you,  as  they  have  come  to  us  of  riper  years.  You 
cannot  escape  them,  for  this  is  a  part  of  the  philosophy  and  economy  of  this 
world.  Your  and  my  Saviour  was  a  man  of  sorrow  and  of  grief,  and  we  all  must 
follow  in  His  footsteps,  willingly  or  unwillingly.  Maybe  you  imagine  that  you 
have  already  tasted  much  of  life's  cares.  Perhaps  you  have,  but  in  the  course  of 
years  you  will  discover  the  fact  that  up  to  this  period  you  were  merely  playing 
soldier.  Perhaps  you  have  had  a  good  deal  of  target  practice,  while  on  one 
or  two  occasions  you  may  have  smelt  gunpowder  in  a  little  skirmish.  Now,  how- 
ever, the  bugles  are  calling  you  into  battle  array,  you  are  about  to  fall  into  line ; 
soon  the  duties  of  life  will  weigh  upon  you,  and  I  hope  that  you  may  accept  your 
positions  with  a  spirit  of  contentment  and  discharge  the  duties  of  your  lives  with 
fidelity.  I  hope  that  you  may  constantly  improve,  so  that  when  men  in  high 
places  pass  away,  you  may  be  fit  to  take  their  positions.  Move  slowly.  Oaks 
require  many  years  of  growth  ;  pumpkin-vines  spread  over  an  acre  lot  inside  of 
three  months.  Make  no  greater  demands  upon  the  world  than  you  are  entitled 
to  make,  and  in  order  to  know  what  is  due  you,  in  order  to  know  what  you  may 
expect  and  what  you  can  do,  I  am  compelled  once  more  to  put  before  you  the  self- 
same lesson — study  yourselves. 

Men  must  have  rest,  but  there  are  those  who  think  they  must  be  idle  in  order 
to  have  rest.  Idleness  is  not  leisure,  said  Benjamin  Franklin.  There  is  rest  in  a 
change  of  occupation,  hence,  men  who  have  correct  views  of  life  are  ever  active. 
There  is  too  much  to  be  done  in  the  little  span  of  time  granted  us  here  on  earth 
to  waste  hours  in  what  the  Italians  fondly  call  dolcefar  niente — sweet  idleness. 
Many  people,  when  looking  over  the  day  that  is  passed,  are  compelled  to  say,  in 
the  language  of  Horace  Mann  :  "  Lost,  yesterday,  somewhere  between  sunrise 
and  sunset,  two  golden  hours,  each  set  with  sixty  diamond  minutes.  No  reward 
offered,  for  they  are  gone  forever."  Says  a  German  philosopher,  "To-morrow 
is  not  to-day,"  and  unless  you  have  done  the  duty  of  to-day,  unless  you  have 
done  something  for  your  own  progress  and  for  that  of  the  world,  you  have  lived 
it  in  vain.  Multiply  your  working  years  with  365  and  notice  how  few  your 


SUCCESS  IN  PROFESSIONAL  LIFE.  29 

working  days  are.  Work  then,  work  every  hour,  whether  you  are  paid  for  it  or 
not,  for  your  reward  is  sure  to  come. 

Reserve  not  your  energies  for  the  future,  when  you  expect  to  do  great  things, 
but  exercise  them  every  day,  so  that  when  the  time  for  great  deeds  does  come, 
your  strength  will  be  developed.  Many  dream  of  greatness,  and  aim  at  it  as  if 
they  had  to  kill  a  nine-headed  hydra  ere  they  could  be  called  famous  ;  but  true 
greatness  is  the  result  of  an  honest  discharge  of  one's  daily  duties.  You  will 
never  rise  in  the  world  without  doing  your  daily  work  well.  The  devil  does  not 
walk  about  with  hoofs  and  horns  in  order  to  tempt  us.  No  ;  he  generally  comes 
to  us  with  fancy  pictures,  working  upon  our  imaginations,  thereby  leading 
us  from  the  path  of  duty.  The  young  mind  loves  to  dwell  upon  the  brightness 
of  the  future,  and  while  doing  so  is  neglectful  of  present  duty.  Beware,  how- 
ever, of  all  such  fancy  pictures,  for  the  future  is  apt  to  be  deceiving.  It  often 
presents  itself  like  a  lovely  landscape,  when  viewed  from  afar,  but  when  we  come 
near  to  it  we  find  hard  roads,  burning  sands,  with  thorns  and  thistles  growing 
among  the  flowers.  Enjoy  every  day's  work,  enjoy  every  mile  of  your  life's 
journey,  for  then  only  will  you  be  able  to  say  in  advanced  years  that  you  have 
spent  happy  lives. 

Have  you  thought  of  the  fact  that  physicians  are  often  called  upon  to  confront 
death  ?  It  is  a  most  serious  duty  to  accompany  a  soul  to  the  brink  of  that  river 
which  divides  the  known  from  the  unknown.  You  may  not  be  Christians,  but 
you  cannot  at  such  a  tune  escape  the  question,  Is  this  all  of  life?  Can  you 
close  your  eyes  to  the  fact  that  an  hour  will  strike  for  you,  when  some  other  phy- 
sician will  say,  he  is  dead,  where  shah1  he  be  buried  ?  Ypu  may  deny  everything, 
but  the  fact  that  you  must  die  is  the  greatest  certainty  that  awaits  you.  What 
is  your  idea  of  the  great  beyond?  Will  you  be  able  to  say  a  kind  and  cheering 
word  to  a  hopeless,  dying  person,  if  circumstances  require  you  to  do  so  ?  What 
opportunities  for  doing  good  you  have  constantly  before  you,  and  what  a  beautiful 
picture  it  is  to  see  the  healer  of  the  body  point  the  patient  also  to  the  Healer  of 
the  Soul. 

There  is  one  more  point  I  must  speak  upon.  Be  progressive,  young  gentle- 
men, be  studious.  I  know  many  physicians  who  never  look  into  a  book  except 
they  are  called  upon  to  attend  a  serious  case  of  illness.  As  to  medical  journals, 
they  never  seem  to  think  of  such  things.  Let  me  advise  you  to  read  wherever 
and  whenever  you  can.  This  world  is  like  a  huge  army,  and  your  medical  pro- 
fession is  as  a  division  of  it.  The  command  is  to  advance,  and  if  you  keep  in 
line  you  must  straighten  up,  carry  your  musket  and  keep  your  powder  dry. 
Keep  step  with  advancing  forces,  else  you  will  soon  be  among  the  stragglers, 
and  then  you  must  fight  like  bushwhackers.  Be  honest  soldiers,  who  occupy 
a  place  in  the  front.  Unless  you  read  and  keep  up  with  the  world,  you  will  be 
regarded  as  antiquated  specimens  of  medical  ignorance,  and  the  first  wide-awake 
and  progressive  man  that  comes  into  your  town  will  overshadow  you  and  take 
your  patronage  from  you. 

As  men  accumulate  great  wealth  by  first  laying  up  little  sums,  so  men  become 
learned  by  storing  away  every  day  a  few  lessons.  In  the  end  you  shall  be  rich  in 
mind,  and  before  you  are  aware  of  your  own  superiority,  others  will  see  it  and 
select  you  for  honorable  positions.  Would  you  rise  in  your  profession,  let  me 


30  SUCCESS  IN  PROFESSIONAL  LIFE. 

advise  you  to  be  studious.  Wait  not  for  a  great  discovery  or  for  a  great  surgical 
operation  that  shall  lift  you  suddenly  to  the  highest  honors,  but  gather  knowledge 
every  day,  so  that  when  the  time  for  your  discovery  and  investigation  may 
come,  you  will  be  prepared  and  possess  the  necessary  mental  force.  A  lazy, 
idling  doctor  bears  the  stamp  of  a  worthless  man.  He  may  have  a  fine  span 
of  horses,  he  may  live  in  an  elegant  house,  but  he  will  be  regarded  as  a 
poor  apology  for  a  doctor.  He  started  out  with  scanty  rations  in  his  knapsack, 
and  during  the  many  years  of  practice  he  has  added  nothing  to  his  original  pork 
and  hard  tack.  In  all  probability  he  was  a  deficient  student  when  he  received 
his  diploma,  and  the  little  knowledge  which  he  then  possessed  he  failed  to  keep 
bright.  He  will  be  denounced,  and  justly  so,  as  an  ignoramus,  and  only  igno- 
ramuses will  employ  him. 

I  have  seen  doctors  in  small  country  towns,  for  there  they  usually  are  objects 
of  observation,  that  had  more  time  than  they  knew  what  to  do  with.  The  stu- 
dious doctor  never  has  too  much  of  this  precious  article.  The  one  is  found  every- 
where except  at  the  post  of  duty,  the  other  is  always  there.  Such  doctors  are 
constantly  in  search  of  amusement  and  diversion,  hence  they  are  found  in  all 
manner  of  places  and  company.  If  nothing  better  offers  itself,  they  loaf  in 
stores  or  in  taverns.  This  brings  them  into  doubtful  company,  it  lowers  them 
to  the  level  of  the  ignorant  and  uncultivated,  and  before  they  are  aware  of  it, 
their  status  is  fixed  in  public  opinion.  To  switch  off  from  a  track  like  this  is 
indeed  a  difficult  task.  The  studious  doctor  has  no  time  to  waste,  he  makes 
his  calls  and  then  returns  to  his  books.  Imagine  not  that  the  world  is  blind 
or  indifferent  to  your  doings,  and  that  the  public  eye  will  not  scrutinize  your 
conduct.  Intelligent  people  watch  physicians,  they  notice  how  they  spend 
their  time,  they  notice,  when  passing  their  offices,  whether  they  are  studying  or 
whether  they  are  sitting  idly  in  their  chairs  with  their  feet  on  the  table.  The 
intelligent  will  observe  whether  the  doctors  have  books  in  hand,  or  whether  they 
while  their  time  away  playing  checkers.  Without  being  aware  of  the  fact,  a 
stamp  of  some  sort  will  be  put  upon  you  by  the  public  ;  see  to  it  that  this  stamp 
represents  a  good  character.  Be  studious,  start  on  the  right  track,  no  matter 
where  your  lot  may  fall.  Invest  not  every  dollar  in  lands  or  in  houses,  nor  in 
horses,  but  buy  yourselves  good  books,  for  these  will  be  among  your  best  friends. 

The  man  who  reads  and  stores  his  mind  with  knowledge  is  his  own  best  com- 
pany. The  one  that  does  not  read  becomes  an  idle  talker ;  he  lets  himself  down 
and  loses  the  respect  of  people  of  culture.  The  richer  your  mind  becomes  the 
happier  you  will  be  in  your  professional  work  ;  the  greater  will  be  the  pleasure 
of  acquiring  knowledge.  Its  possession  alone  makes  you  independent.  Never 
overlook  the  fact  that  character  and  learning  are  the  keys  which  open  to  you  the 
doors  of  the  best  society. 

Have  a  literary  and  also  an  art  existence.  By  no  means  confine  your  reading 
entirely  to  your  own  profession.  Read,  however,  only  good  books  ;  waste  no  time 
upon  novels.  It  is  a  sad  sight  to  see  people  chew  up  husks  when  there  is  so  much 
good  sweet  corn  ready  to  be  consumed.  If  you  can  study  other  languages,  do  so ; 
for  thereby  you  increase  your  own  powers  tenfold.  Good  reading,  genuine  art- 
culture,  are  admirable  means  to  brush  off  that  brusqueness  and  apparent  rough- 
ness of  manners  one  notices  so  often  in  country  physicians.  Through  reading 


SUCCESS  IN  PROFESSIONAL  LIFE.  31 

you  learn  to  know  life,  and  through  it  you  will  be  better  fitted  to  read  men's 
characters.  Only  what  you  KNOW  is  your  own,  not  what  you  HAVE.  Make  the 
most  of  yourselves,  for  so  will  you  make  the  most  for  yourselves  and  for  mankind. 

I  have  endeavored  to  show  you  that  in  order  to  be  successful  in  life  you  must 
be  manly  men,  you  must  be  sober  and  intelligent,  studious  and  progressive  men, 
you  must  know  human  nature,  you  must  be  prudent  in  act  and  speech,  and  you 
must  love  and  labor  for  the  advancement  of  your  profession.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  are  many  men  who  call  themselves  successful  because  they  have  acquired 
much  wealth.  Their  reasoning  is  based  on  the  theory  that  some  superiority  is  better 
than  none,  and  thus  they  make  wealth  a  substitute  for  mental  and  moral  superi- 
ority, which  is  beyond  their  reach.  Seek  not  your  success  in  that  direction.  For 
the  sake  of  the  love  you  bear  to  your  chosen  profession,  aim  to  honor  and  to  elevate 
it  by  being  the  right  sort  of  men.  In  entering  upon  the  duties  before  you,  borrow 
courage  and  inspiration  from  the  many  illustrious  men  that  have  adorned  the  his- 
tory of  your  profession.  No  matter  what  the  difficulties  may  be  that  present 
themselves,  no  matter  what  privations  or  criticisms  you  may  be  called  upon  to 
endure,  live  as  men  that  have  chosen  an  honorable  profession.  Hold  fast  to  your 
calling  ;  blame  it  not  for  your  own  blunders,  but  honor  and  defend  it,  practice  and 
improve  it,  to  the  best  of  your  ability.  Give  your  whole  soul  to  your  work ;  love 
it,  for  love  must  be  the  propelling  power  in  your  calling,  as  it  is  in  that  of  the 
minister,  teacher,  and  the  artist.  Labor  unceasingly,  labor  earnestly,  and  then 
wait  patiently  for  public  recognition.  You  may  become  great,  but,  be  assured, 
you  must  work  hard  and  wait  long  for  it.  Thousands  have  entered  the  medical 
profession  before  you,  thousands  will  enter  it  after  you ;  but  the  bulk  of  these  are 
standing  down  in  the  valley.  Very  few  have  reached  the  summit  of  the  mountain. 
Are  you  willing  to  remain  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  of  fame,  or  are  you  ambitious  to 
rise  ?  No  matter  what  your  powers  may  be,  endeavor  to  rise,  at  least  as  high  as 
you  can.  But  bear  in  mind  that  true  happiness  is  only  found  in  the  act  of  rising, 
not  so  much  in  being  elevated  above  others.  Many  imagine  that  there  is  great 
satisfaction  in  standing  high  in  one's  profession.  Such,  no  doubt,  is  the  case,  but 
a  high  position  brings  also  great  responsibilities,  and  the  higher  one  rises  on  a 
mountain  the  colder  becomes  the  atmosphere.  The  satisfaction  of  standing  high 
diminishes  in  the  same  ratio  as  one  rises,  for  the  higher  you  ascend  the  greater 
becomes  also  your  view  of  the  immensity  of  the  fields  which  have  not  as  yet  been 
explored.  Thus,  the  higher  a  man  rises  the  better  he  appreciates  his  own  de- 
ficiency, and  it  will  therefore  be  generally  found  true  that  the  scholar  is  humble. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  has  a  perfect  right  to  feel  his  own  worth,  when  viewing 
the  common  people  before  and  behind  him  on  the  streets. 

My  prescription  is  made  out,  and  it  remains  to  be  seen  whether  you  will  have 
it  filled  and  whether  you  will  use  it  in  life.  Every  doctor  likes  to  see  his 
medicine  taken  ;  so  do  I  in  this  case.  I  may  never  see  you  in  life  again,  but  I 
part  from  you  feeling  satisfied  that  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  I  have  improved 
the  little  time  granted  me  to  direct  you  into  the  right  path.  No  doubt  all  that 
has  been  said  is  old,  but  the  old  truths,  the  plain  truths,  must  be  repeated  to 
every  rising  generation.  They  are  plain  old  maxims,  but  for  all  that,  they  are 
often  difficult  to  remember  and  still  more  difficult  to  follow.  Your  teachers 
know  from  experience  how  often  they  have  repeated  the  first  lessons  of  medi- 


32  SUCCESS  IN   PROFESSIONAL  LIFE. 

cine,  and  yet  they  will  again  be  called  upon  next  term  to  reiterate  them.     But  no 
one  would  say  that  the  lessons  themselves  are  the  worse  for  it. 

Take,  then,  my  prescription,  with  my  best  wishes  for  your  success.  Fill  it 
out  in  life,  and  take  a  dose  whenever  needed.  It  is  patent  medicine,  though 
perfectly  free  from  quackery.  It  is  medicine  patented  to  make  you  happy  and 
healthy  in  soul,  mind  and  body.  Let  me  recommend  you  the  following  words 
uttered  by  a  great  and  good  man,  as  your  life's  motto  or  as  your  professional  text. 
Said  he :  "I  expect  to  pass  through  this  world  but  once  ;  if,  therefore,  there  is 
a  good  thing  I  can  do  to  any  fellow  human  being,  let  me  do  it  now,  for  I  shall  not 
pass  this  way  again. ' '  To  which  I  will  add :  if  there  is  a  good  thing  to  do  toward 
helping  any  good  cause  along,  do  it  to-day,  for  you  will  never  live  to-day  over 
again.  May  God  richly  bless  you  and,  through  you,  your  profession  and  mankind. 
This  is  my  parting  wish. 


SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


Germany  is  preeminently  the  land  of  music,  and  in  a  like  sense  it  is  the  land 
of  metaphysics.  Strange  to  say,  among  the  many  philosophers  that  Germany 
has  produced,  few  have  dealt  successfully  with  the  subject  of  music.  Even 
Kant,  the  founder  of  an  art-philosophy,  regarded  music  merely  as  a  pleasant  play 
of  the  emotions;  "but,"  says  Hand,  "he  failed  to  make  out  whether  a  mere 
sensuous  impression  or  the  effect  of  a  discernment  of  form  prevailed  in  that 
play."  Kant  denied  what  every  student  of  art  now  acknowledges,  namely,  that 
music  is  a  language  of  the  emotions  and  a  means  of  awakening  aesthetical  ideas. 
According  to  Richard  Wagner,  only  one  philosopher  has  fully  understood  and 
correctly  set  forth  the  high  position  of  this  art.  In  his  little  book,  entitled, 
"Beethoven,"  he  says  :  "  Schopenhauer  was  the  first  to  recognize  and  designate 
with  philosophical  clearness  the  position  of  music  with  reference  to  the  other  fine 
arts,  in  that  he  awards  to  it  a  nature  entirely  different  from  that  of  the  plastic 
or  poetic  arts."  This  decided  testimony  in  favor  of  Schopenhauer's  musical 
philosophy  is  all  the  stronger  in  view  of  the  fact  that  Schopenhauer  was  by  no 
means  a  follower  of  Wagner.  Yet,  at  first  sight,  it  would  seem  as  if  the  two 
men  were  musical  antipodes ;  for  Schopenhauer  speaks  favorably  of  Rossini's 
music,  which,  in  its  character,  its  construction  and  tendency,  is  as  far  from  Wag- 
ner's ideas  of  musical  art  as  the  east  is  from  the  west. 

Music  cannot  be  made  the  medium  of  a  special  theology  or  of  a  code  of  ethics ; 
we,  as  musical  students,  have  therefore  nothing  directly  to  do  with  Schopen- 
hauer's peculiar  theories.  Still,  as  his  philosophy  of  music  is  closely  connected 
with  his  theory  of  the  will,  we  must  make  you  acquainted  with  it. 

When  reviewing  this  philosopher's  theories  we  must  judge  of  him  in  the  light 
of  his  own  times  and  surroundings.  The  convulsion  in  society  produced  by  the 
French  Revolution,  and  the  bitter  Napoleonic  wars  which  followed,  could  not  fail 
to  make  its  impression  upon  such  a  mind  as  that  of  Schopenhauer.  Religious 
skepticism  prevailed  everywhere  among  the  learned  as  well  as  among  the  masses. 
True  religion  was  scarcely  found  anywhere.  After  the  years  of  warfare  had  at 
last  ended,  the  masses  gave  themselves  over  to  pleasure  seeking.  The  various 
governments  of  Europe  did  all  they  could  to  turn  the  people's  attention  from  the 
affairs  of  state  and  public  morality.  Every  conceivable  amusement  was  provided 
for  the  masses,  and  it  was  at  that  tune  that  Rossini,  with  his  sensuous  operas, 
prevailed  everywhere,  overshadowing  even  a  man  so  great  as  Beethoven,  and  that 
in  the  very  city  of  Vienna,  where  Beethoven  dwelt  almost  as  an  exile.  It  was 
at  this  time  that  Strauss  and  Lanner,  the  dance-kings,  appeared  on  the  arena, 
furnishing  their  charming  new  dances  for  ball-rooms. 
3  33 


34  SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

While  the  people  were  thus  made  drunk  with  pleasures,  the  affairs  of  state 
being  in  the  hands  of  reactionists  of  the  worst  kind,  all  thinking  men  cher- 
ished secret  sorrow  at  the  existing  state  of  things.  But  what  they  cherished  as 
their  own  grief,  was  the  common  grief  of  the  best  men  of  the  nation.  It  was 
produced  by  that  political  and  moral  mildew  which  was  setting  upon  the  minds 
of  the  people,  and  this  grief  is  called  in  German,  the  Weltschmerz,  or  the  grief  of 
the  world. 

Beethoven  gives  expression  to  the  "  Weltschmerz"  in  many  of  his  matchless 
works,  but  Schopenhauer  is  the  true  representative  of  this  idea,  and  he  carried 
his  state  of  dissatisfaction  to  such  a  degree,  that  he  became  a  pessimist  of  the 
very  first  water.  There  runs  throughout  his  writings  a  vein  of  despair  that 
shocks  one,  and  the  reader  is  often  chilled  and  even  frightened  at  the  terrible 
coldness  with  which  he  destroys  and  dispels  all  those  fond  illusions  and  pictures 
of  fancy  to  which  the  human  mind  often  resorts  and  clings  as  a  relief.  As 
Schopenhauer  took  a  deep  interest  in  sacred  Hindoo  literature,  one  meets  quite 
frequently  in  his  writings  a  peculiar  Oriental  cast,  a  sort  of  Buddhistic  spirit, 
which  here  and  there  lends  a  peculiar  coloring  to  his  essays.  Then  the  attentive 
reader  cannot  fail  to  discover,  also,  Schopenhauer's  peculiar  views  about  women, 
which  almost  causes  one  to  believe  that  he  lived  a  few  centuries  ago.  But 
enough  of  these  preliminary  remarks. 

Schopenhauer  was  born  in  Danzig,  Germany,  in  the  year  1788.  His  father 
was  a  rich  merchant ;  his  mother  was  the  well-known  authoress  of  novels,  Johanna 
Schopenhauer.  A  literary  vein  seems  to  have  run  in  the  larger  portion  of  the 
Schopenhauer  family,  for  the  daughter,  Schopenhauer's  only  sister  Adele,  also 
was  a  novelist.  When  Danzig  was  ceded  to  Prussia  in  1793,  the  family  being 
anti-Prussian  in  political  sentiment,  moved,  at  considerable  loss  of  property,  to 
Hamburg.  The  elder  Schopenhauer  was  a  very  intelligent  man.  He  was  fond 
of  reading,  but  still  more  so  of  traveling,  and  he  made  frequent  and  prolonged 
visits  to  England  and  France.  These  visits  to  foreign  countries  made  young 
Schopenhauer  a  good  linguist,  for  he  spoke  and  wrote  both  English  and  French 
quite  fluently.  He  was  also  well  versed  in  the  ancient  languages,  both  in  Latin 
and  Greek,  and  wrote  dissertations  in  the  former  language.  While  the  father 
had  many  excellent  points  of  character,  he  had  also  some  great  weaknesses,  and 
these  the  son  not  only  inherited,  but  they  became  intensified  in  him.  One  of 
these  failings  was  a  decided  morbidness  of  temperament,  which  sometimes  seemed 
to  overwhelm  him.  His  mother  evidently  had  no  special  affection  for  her  hus- 
band, and  sought  pleasure  in  society  and  travel,  which  separated  her  much  from 
her  family.  Young  Schopenhauer,  being  the  only  son,  was  designed  by  his 
father  for  the  counting-house ;  but  the  son  persistently  rebelled  against  all 
mercantile  employment.  Mild  forms  of  correction  were  employed,  but  these  were 
of  no  avail,  and  at  last  the  choice  was  left  between  a  regular  college  education 
and  a  trip  through  Europe.  Although  young  Schopenhauer  was  eager  to 
learn,  he  chose  the  latter,  and  in  1803  the  family  started  for  England  and  Scot- 
land, where  they  remained  for  a  considerable  time.  During  this  period  our  young 
philosopher  was  placed  in  a  boarding-school  at  Wimbledon,  near  London,  and  it 
was  here  that  he  acquired  a  thorough  knowledge  of  English,  which  he  often  dis- 
plays in  his  writings.  But  what  is  far  worse  and  much  to  be  deplored,  is  the 


SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY.  35 

fact  that  in  this  boarding-school  he  took  a  cordial  dislike  to  English  formality,  and 
especially  to  the  English  clergy  and  English  ideas  of  religion.  He  is  most  un- 
sparing when  the  opportunity  offers  itself  to  speak  of  the  clergy  of  the  Church 
of  England,  and  he  himself  says  that  a  great  deal  of  that  bitterness  which  he 
feels  toward  religion  in  general  and  the  ministry  in  particular  is  chargeable  to  the 
clergyman  who  presided  over  the  Wimbledon  school. 

After  leaving  England,  the  family  visited  Switzerland  and  then  returned  home. 
But  scarcely  had  they  been  settled  again  in  the  old  home  when  the  father  died. 
Prompted  by  a  sense  of  reverence  for  his  parent's  wishes,  the  son  now  entered 
the  counting-house  ;  but  the  desire  for  higher  knowledge  at  last  became  irresist- 
ible, and,  impelled  by  his  thirst  for  learning,  he  finally  entered  the  University 
of  Gottingen,  where  he  studied  history  and  natural  sciences,  two  studies,  he 
says,  which  in  his  later  work  proved  very  helpful  to  him.  Here  he  became 
acquainted  with  Schultze,  who  aided  him  with  his  sound  advice.  When  refer- 
ring to  his  metaphysical  studies,  Schultze  counseled  Schopenhauer  to  read  Kant 
and  Plato  first,  and  cautioned  him  under  no  circumstances  to  read  any  other  phi- 
losopher, especially  not  Aristotle  and  Spinoza,  until  he  had  thoroughly  digested 
the  two  first-named  authors.  In  1811  he  went  to  Berlin,  drawn  thither  by 
Fichte,  but  after  hearing  a  few  lectures  from  that  philosopher  he  felt  disappointed 
and  turned  from  him.  In  1813  he  endeavored  to  secure  the  Doctor's  degree  at 
the  University  in  Berlin,  but  the  war  with  France  being  then  at  its  height,  he 
was  prevented  from  making  the  attempt.  He  finally,  however,  took  the  degree 
at  Jena  and  then  turned  toward  Weimar,  the  literary  Mecca  of  Germany,  where 
he  was  favored  with  Goethe's  friendship.  It  was  here,  also,  that  he  met  the 
oriental  scholar,  Meyer,  who  caused  Schopenhauer  to  interest  himself  in  the  holy 
writings  of  East  India,  which,  as  has  already  been  stated,  gives  some  of  his 
essays  such  a  strange  cast.  During  the  period  from  1814-18  he  lived  quietly  in 
Dresden,  and  while  there  he  wrote  his  famous  treatise  on  "  Sight  and  Colors." 
About  this  time  he  also  wrote  his  most  famous  work  :  "The  World  as  the  Will 
and  its  Representation."  In  1818  he  visited  Rome,  and  then  returned  to  Berlin, 
where  he  connected  himself  with  the  University  as  a  lecturer.  But  he  was  soon 
drawn  a  second  time  to  Italy,  where  he  remained  until  1825.  He  again  settled 
in  the  Prussian  capital,  but  the  approach  of  the  cholera  drove  him  a  second  time 
from  that  city,  and  this  caused  him  to  finally  settle  in  Frankfort-on-the-Main, 
where  he  spent  his  life.  He  was  fortunately  situated,  for  his  father  had  left  him 
ample  means.  He  was,  therefore,  not  compelled  to  labor  for  his  support ;  he  had 
command  of  his  own  time,  was  independent  of  the  powers  that  ruled,  and  could 
afford  to  say  exactly  what  he  thought  and  felt.  He  was  never  slow  to  express  his 
opinions,  and  did  so,  regardless  of  people  or  place. 

He  now  gave  himself  exclusively  to  metaphysical  studies,  and  wrote  diligently. 
His  first  work,  "The  World  as  the  Will  and  its  Representation,"  failed  to  be 
recognized,  and  was  left  totally  unnoticed ;  this  was  to  him  a  source  of  great  morti- 
fication. Not  until  1836,  when  he  published  a  little  pamphlet,  entitled  "  The  Will 
in  Nature,"  in  which  he  set  forth  his  philosophy  in  the  most  concise  form,  did 
his  writings  attract  any  attention  whatsoever.  In  1839  one  of  his  theses  was 
crowned  by  the  Norwegian  Academy  of  Science.  In  1851  he  wrote  his  best  work, 


36  SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

entitled  "Parerga  and  Para-li-pomena,"  a  series  of  short  essays  on  metaphysical 
subjects,  which  are  very  fine  specimens  of  writing. 

Schopenhauer  lived  for  thirty  years  in  Frankfort,  and  was  known  there  as  the 
Misanthropic  Sage.  On  lonely  walks  he  was  always  accompanied  by  his  poodle, 
to  which  he  was  much  attached.  In  fact,  it  is  said  of  him  that  he  spent  more 
tune  in  the  company  of  his  dog  than  in  that  of  man.  It  is  the  opinion  of  those 
who  lived  nearest  to  our  philosopher  that  his  sad  experiences  in  his  dealings  with 
men,  and  his  antipathy  to  his  mother,  made  him  the  pessimist  he  was,  but  that 
at  heart  he  was  kind,  especially  toward  the  suffering.  He  felt  much  sympathy 
for  those  who  had  to  battle  with  the  adversities  of  life,  and  in  his  philosophy  he 
advises  us  not  to  become  angry  at  the  meanness  of  men,  but  rather  to  pity  them 
on  this  account,  and  to  regard  them  as  fellow-sufferers.  Says  he  :  "When  you 
meet  a  human  being,  try  not  at  once  to  settle  his  mental  and  moral  value,  nor 
endeavor  to  fix  his  inherent  degree  of  dignity,  neither  attempt  to  fathom  his  mind 
or  to  settle  the  absurdities  of  many  of  his  views.  The  first  would  lead  to  hatred, 
the  second  to  contempt ;  but  rather  regard  your  neighbor  from  the  standpoint  of 
suffering  ;  see  him  in  his  perplexing  anxieties,  in  his  vain  strivings,  in  his  unsuc- 
cessful endeavors  to  secure  peace  and  quiet,  in  his  needs  and  wants,  in  his  ailings 
of  body  and  mind,  and  you  will  be  forced  to  regard  him  as  your  kinsman.  Instead 
of  indulging  in  hatred  and  feelings  of  contempt  you  will  then  arouse  sympathy, 
that  sympathy  which  is  love,  and  (says  this  pessimistic  Schopenhauer,  who  is 
regarded  as  totally  devoid  of  all  regard  for  religion),  it  is  this  love  which  the  Gospel 
teaches. "  As  far  then  as  this  basis  is  concerned  he  stands  on  religious  ground.  But 
let  us  follow  him  a  few  steps  further.  Says  he,  "  If  you  have  cast  a  glance  at  the 
meanness  of  man,  and  are  ready  to  become  exasperated  over  it,  endeavor  to  awaken 
sentiments  of  sympathy  by  looking  at  the  suffering  you  see  everywhere  among  the 
children  of  men.  And  if  this  again  alarms  you,  turn  your  eye  upon  the  corrup- 
tion of  human  nature,  and  thus  will  you  establish  a  healthy  equilibrium  in  your 
mind.  Then  will  you  learn  that  there  is  eternal  justice  and  that  this  world  is 
judgment. ' '  Schopenhauer  was  a  firm  believer  in  the  doctrine  of  total  depravity 
in  man,  even  in  infants,  He  recognized  the  need  of  a  change  of  heart,  but  in  the 
use  of  means  we  differ  with  him,  as  we  shall  presently  see. 

Schopenhauer  turned  away  from  all  society,  from  all  active  participation  in 
those  aspirations  which  agitate  the  human  family ;  but  for  all  he  was  a  diligent 
reader  of  the  European  press ;  he  often  took  its  statements  to  illustrate  and  to 
prove  his  teachings.  That  he  and  his  mother  could  not  agree  is  a  sad  fact,  yet 
there  were  good  causes  for  it.  She  delighted  to  live  in  a  whirlpool  of  social 
pleasures,  and  wrote  weak  novels.  She  saw  the  world  only  from  the  standpoint  of 
enjoyment,  while  he  was  a  deep  thinker,  a  philosopher  who  saw  the  world  only  in 
the  light  of  suffering.  He  believed  in  Aristotle's  idea,  that  the  avoidance  of 
trouble,  which  he  calls  a  negative  sort  of  happiness,  is  far  more  desirable  than  all 
the  pleasures  which  society  offers.  He  was  a  profound  scholar,  a  misanthrope, 
a  pessimist,  while  his  mother  was  one  of  the  worst  optimists.  In  one  of  her  letters 
she  said  to  him,  "your  lamentations  over  this  stupid  world  and  the  misery  of 
mankind,  give  me  bad  nights  and  evil  dreams."  Another  reason  why  Schopen- 
hauer felt  bitterly  toward  his  mother  was  her  neglect  of  his  father's  memory. 


SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY.  37 

There  was  a  great  gulf,  so  to  speak,  between  the  two,  and  so  mother  and  son  went 
their  own  ways.  They  had  apparently  nothing  in  common  but  their  names.  If 
I  should  be  forced  to  take  sides  between  the  two,  I  would  stand  with  Schopenhauer, 
for  his  ideas  of  the  human  family  in  all  its  corruption,  his  ideas  of  the  evil  propen- 
sities of  human  nature,  correspond  most  nearly  with  my  experience. 

But  let  us  drop  the  curtain  upon  this  sad  picture.  I  merely  raised  it  in  order  to 
show  you  that  the  strongest  men  often  find  it  impossible,  by  their  own  strength, 
to  swim  against  the  current  of  circumstances.  Philosophy  always  has  had  a  clear 
perception  of  the  disturbed  condition  in  the  human  heart,  but  philosophy  never 
found  the  true  remedy.  This  the  Gospel  alone  supplies.  Schopenhauer  was  well 
read  in  ancient  as  well  as  in  modern  literature.  His  best  ideas,  he  says,  came 
from  Kant,  Plato,  and  the  sacred  writings  of  East  India.  He  always  was  serious ; 
he  could  not  bear  to  see  anything  abused,  neither  man  nor  beast,  literature  nor 
art,  religion  nor  philosophy.  He  hated  all  cliques,  all  unmanly  means  to  oppose 
those  that  think  differently  ;  he  despised  the  socialistic  ideas  of  modern  times,  as 
these  developed  themselves  during  the  revolutionary  days  of  '48  and  '49 ;  in  short, 
he  was  completely  at  outs  with  his  own  times,  and  with  many  of  the  men  that 
held  the  wheels  of  government  or  that  fashioned  public  thought.  Despite  his 
exclusiveness,  many  great  men  came  to  Frankfort  to  make  his  acquaintance,  and 
not  a  few  remained  with  him  in  order  to  study  his  philosophy,  or  to  listen  to  his 
interesting  conversations.  This  made  the  last  years  of  his  life  more  pleasant  and 
himself  more  social.  By  nature  he  was  an  aristocrat ;  in  his  teachings  and  con- 
versations he  was  an  autocrat.  He  denounced  many  of  those  who  taught  phi- 
losophy in  the  Universities  of  Germany  as  mere  Sophists,  and  upon  the  whole,  he 
called  them  a  most  sorrowful  crew.  Hegel  he  regarded  as  the  arch-humbug. 
Even  Kant  he  accuses  of  veiling  his  ignorance  at  times  by  using  language  that  is 
difficult  to  understand.  Yet  it  must  be  said  of  him  that  he  held  Kant  in  the  very 
highest  esteem,  and  he  often  pronounced  him  the  clearest  thinker  of  modern 
times.  Schopenhauer  despised  obscurity  in  anything,  and  so  he  was  also  a  despiser 
of  all  duplicity  in  the  use  of  language.  When  he  speaks  he  always  aims  at  a 
point ;  he  never  sets  off  mere  fire-crackers,  or  Roman-candles.  He  always  uses 
hard  shot  that  hits,  though  from  a  Christian  standpoint  he  often  shoots  at  a  wrong 
target.  If  he  uses  the  knife  he  cuts  to  the  bone,  and  what  he  says  he  utters  regard- 
less of  the  opinions  of  others.  He  displays  the  utmost  faith  in  the  correctness 
of  his  own  theories,  and  predicts  that  in  the  future,  when  men  shall  judge  with 
more  freedom,  when  philosophy  shall  be  less  under  the  influence  of  those  in 
authority,  his  philosophy  will  be  accepted  as  the  only  correct  one.  What  if  such 
a  man  had  been  a  Christian,  a  teacher  of  sound  theology.  His  writings  are  some- 
times difficult  to  understand,  partly  because  he  uses  technical  terms  with  special 
meanings  attached  to  them  that  must  be  learned  by  much  close  reading  of  his 
theories.  Moreover,  he  often  writes  in  lengthy  and  intricate  sentences,  but  after 
studying  these,  his  ideas  always  stand  out  clearly.  No  matter  how  we  may  dislike 
many  of  these  ideas,  and  no  matter  how  much  we  may  deplore  the  fact  that  they 
were  not  turned  into  the  right  channel,  we  must  give  them  credit  for  fearlessness, 
for  candor,  and  for  freedom  from  all  school-cant.  The  fundamental  ideas  of  his 
philosophy  are  these :  The  will  of  man  is  the  real  (thing  in  this  world,  all  else  is 


38  SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

mere  representation.  This  will,  of  which  Schopenhauer  speaks,  is  not  what  in 
common  language  is  meant  by  the  absolute  free  power  of  action,  but  implies,  in 
the  philosopher's  mind,  the  essence  of  all  things,  the  all-pervading  power  mani- 
festing itself  everywhere.  This  will  stands  separate  from  the  faculty  of  reasoning  ; 
it  is  the  thing  in  itself,  in  which  the  created  world  and  the  Creator  meet.  From 
this  standpoint  man  becomes  the  act,  the  true  manifestation  of  the  will.  The 
will,  which  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all  representations  and  appearances,  develops 
into  a  succession  of  ideas.  From  the  animal  downward,  the  will  is  void  of  cog- 
nition and  ideas ;  it  is  a  mere  blind  force,  an  unconscious  seeking  and  fleeing.  It 
is  active  in  plant  life,  in  animal  life,  until  in  man  it  manifests  itself  through  the 
nerve  power  and  the  brain,  thereby  reaching  its  highest  state  of  self-consciousness. 
The  will  comes  first,  it  is  the  greatest  factor,  and  the  intellect  stands  second  to  it. 
According  to  Schopenhauer's  theories,  the  intellect  is  a  tool  in  the  hands  of  the 
will,  if  I  may  be  permitted  to  use  this  expression.  The  will  always  manifests 
itself  through  motives.  In  the  animal  the  intellect  is  subordinate  to  the  will. 
The  animal  knows  and  follows  only  the  laws  of  self-preservation.  Prompted  by 
instinct  it  seeks  food  and  shelter.  Among  the  common  people^  that  factory- ware 
of  society,  as  Schopenhauer  calls  them,  the  will  has  no  higher  aims  and  wants 
than  self-gratification.  With  them  the  will  is  the  master  and  the  brain  the  ser- 
vant, but  when  the  man  becomes  educated,  when  he  reaches  a  high  state  of  cul- 
ture, the  brain  begins  to  rule  and  gradually  subdues  the  will.  In  genius,  which 
is  the  highest  type  of  sensibility  and  intellectuality,  the  mind  becomes  the  supreme 
ruler.  The  intellect  is  so  completely  absorbed  and  so  intensely  interested  in  the 
clear  perception  of  things,  that  the  will  is,  as  it  were,  put  into  chains  ;  the  mind 
emancipates  itself  from  the  will  and  its  powers,  and  it  is  then,  and  not  until 
then,  that  the  mind  learns  to  see  things  in  their  true  light ;  that  is,  the  mind  sees 
things  no  longer  in  the  light  of  mere  usefulness  and  productivity — but  simply  for 
then-  own  sakes.  This  is  the  pleasurable,  aesthetic  contemplation  of  which 
Schopenhauer  speaks  so  much,  and  of  which  I  will  say  more  in  another  place. 
This  aesthetic  contemplation  affords  us,  however,  only  temporary  relief ;  it  sup- 
presses the  will-power  only  for  a  brief  period  of  time,  for  the  renewed  activity 
of  the  will  forces  upon  us  new  wants,  and  thus  prevents  us  from  enjoying  per- 
manent rest.  The  will  desires  to  have  and  to  live,  but,  as  life  is  inseparably 
connected  with  suffering,  the  will,  if  gratified,  must  necessarily  lead  to  suffering. 
The  more  the  will  is  suppressed,  the  more  effectually  it  is  denied,  the  better  and 
purer  man  becomes,  until  finally  in  sanctification,  by  turning  from  life,  he  realizes 
in  himself  a  complete  deathness  toward  this  world,  and  a  cheerful  resignation  to 
its  conditions,  which  gives  him  the  much  sought  for  relief.  Thus  we  see  how  our 
philosopher  sees  through  self-negation  that  which,  according  to  the  teachings 
of  the  Bible,  can  only  be  found  in  a  cheerful  resignation  to  the  will  of  God, 
and  in  accepting  the  plan  of  salvation.  But,  continues  the  philosopher,  that 
which  appears  only  in  single  instances  among  the  pure,  the  good,  and  the 
sanctified — that  is,  the  perfect  denial  of  the  will — would,  if  it  were  reached  by 
all,  lead  to  the  destruction  of  mankind ;  as  we  now  know  it,  it  would  be  the 
end  of  that  world  which  represents  the  will.  For  this  new  order  of  things, 
however,  we  lack  all  conception,  says  our  author,  and  to  us  it  is,  therefore,  equal 


SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY.  39 

to  nothing.  On  the  other  hand,  we  must  bear  in  mind  the  fact  that  our  world  is 
nothing  in  the  eyes  of  those  who  have  denied  the  will,  and  who  have  come  to 
realize  its  tendency. 

At  one  time  Schopenhauer's  philosophical  theories  seemed  to  reach  the  masses 
of  Germany,  but  they  have  lost  much  of  their  popularity.  In  the  land  of  Locke 
and  Bacon  he  became  known  in  1853,  through  an  article  which  appeared  in  the 
Westminster  Review,  and  it  is  claimed  that  the  attention  which  was  bestowed 
upon  him  by  the  English  press  tended  largely  to  make  him  known  among  his  own 
countrymen. 

Schopenhauer  died  in  Frankfort  on  the  21st  of  September,  1860,  at  the  age  of 
72.  His  housekeeper  found  him  one  morning,  after  breakfast,  lifeless  in  his  chair. 
He  left  a  portion  of  his  estate  to  the  Invalides  of  the  Prussian  army,  who  fought 
against  the  Socialists  and  Liberals  in  the  revolution  of  '48  and  '49.  He  allowed 
nothing  to  be  put  upon  his  tombstone  but  the  bare  name,  Arthur  Schopenhauer. 

Perhaps  some  may  think,  that  inasmuch  as  we  are  concerned  only  in  Schopen- 
hauer's musical  theories,  I  have  paid  too  much  attention  to  his  life  and  philosophy  ; 
but  you  will  presently  see  that,  in  order  to  understand  this  latter,  the  facts  given  you 
are  necessary  as  a  basis.  His  life-story  might  have  been  omitted,  but  I  know  that 
there  are  many  among  you  who  would  be  interested  in  it.  So  let  us  now  retrace 
our  steps  in  order  that  we  may  properly  get  a  clear  understanding  of  the  real 
subject  in  hand. 

Kant,  in  his  ' '  Critique  of  Pure  Reason, ' '  says,  that  he  has  proven  the  abso- 
lute impenetrability  of  the  essence  of  things  by  human  knowledge.  In  order  to 
see  objects,  we  can  only  behold  them  in  time,  in  space  and  hi  their  mutual  rela- 
tions to  cause  and  effect.  We  cannot,  therefore,  go  beyond  the  appearance  of 
things,  and  there  must  always  be  something  unknown,  namely,  that  which  exists 
independent  of  the  appearance,  independent  of  time,  space  and  causality.  This 
Kant  calls  the  "thing  in  itself,"  and  as  we  cannot  grasp  it,  this  thing  in  itself  is 
called  the  X  of  the  universe.  Schopenhauer  steps  in  and  says  that  the  will  is 
that  which  represents  this  X,  and  he  claims  that  by  this  solution  he  has  given 
positiveness  and  consciousness  to  the  metaphysical  world.  The  will  pervades  ah1 
things,  hence,  we  become  identified  with  all  things,  and  there  is,  therefore,  no 
longer  a  mysteiy  which  we  cannot  solve.  It  is  true,  all  things  must  be  seen 
through  time,  space  and  causality,  but  there  is  one  exception,  and  this  exception 
is  man.  We  are  conscious  of  a  vital  power  in  ourselves,  and  this  power  is  the 
will ;  it  is  ever  present,  ever  active,  it  makes  itself  forever  felt,  it  is  the  tiling 
of  our  being.  This  recognition  of  self  Schopenhauer  regards  as  the  only  meta- 
physical knowledge,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word.  Looking  at  the  world  we 
see  a  repetition  of  ourselves,  and  that  on  a  gigantic  scale.  There  can  be  no 
other  substratum,  says  he,  in  the  universe  than  the  will  in  its  various  stages  of 
consciousness.  There  is,  therefore,  a  spirit  of  unity  in  the  created  world,  and 
this  makes  us  a  part  of  the  whole,  it  fills  up  the  chasm  that  divides  the  mental 
and  material  forces,  and  enables  us  to  glance  fearlessly  at  the  straggling  and  suf- 
fering of  mankind.  The  history  of  the  world,  says  Schopenhauer,  is  but  a 
struggle  of  the  will  to  become  conscious,  and  this  consciousness  is  reached  in 
man.  Will  and  interminable  desire  are  the  essence  of  all  beings.  Everywhere 
we  see  the  will  straggling  for  an  existence ;  whatever  obstructs  its  path  is  resisted ; 


40  SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

species  devour  species  ;  race  contends  against  race  ;  even  mother  earth  is  seeth- 
ing in  its  interior  with  fires,  ready  to  burst  forth  at  any  time.  Thus  we  see  the 
will  devour  its  own  children.  The  author  points  to  the  apparent  cruelty  of 
nature  and  tells  us  it  is  the  nature  of  the  will.  But  is  there  no  escape  from 
this  torment  ?  Even  if  we  could  agree  with  Schopenhauer  in  all  he  said,  here 
we  have  reached  the  parting  point  for  good.  While  it  is  my  belief  that  all  these 
evils  can  only  be  remedied  by  regeneration  in  Christ,  Schopenhauer  points  out 
two  ways  for  us  in  which  we  may  escape  from  the  torment  of  the  will.  One  of 
these  is  self-denial,  as  has  already  been  shown,  that  is,  the  subjection  of  the  will 
by  the  aid  of  the  brain.  The  misery  of  the  will  is  mirrored  in  the  brain,  and 
through  its  aid  the  will  is  enabled  to  subdue  its  desires.  This  leads  to  the  dead- 
ening of  our  desires,  and  this  is  what  Christianity  teaches  or  points  to.  Scho- 
penhauer by  no  means  hesitates  to  point  in  this  direction,  for  he  sees  the  greatest 
ideal  of  happiness  in  the  strictest  order  of  the  Catholic  Church,  the  Trappists, 
an  order  which  forbids  its  members  even  the  privilege  of  speaking,  and  which 
demands  most  complete  self-denial.  In  fact,  Trappists  live  in  a  tomb  where 
deathly  silence  reigns. 

There  are,  however,  other  means,  says  Schopenhauer,  of  temporarily  emerging 
from  this  struggling  and  suffering,  these  ever-continued  wants  of  the  will,  and 
these  means  are  the  arts  which  lead  to  pure  reflection  and  temporary  peace.  I 
have,  in  a  previous  part  of  my  lecture,  referred  to  that  pleasurable  aesthetic  con- 
templation of  which  Schopenhauer  says  so  much.  Allow  me  now  to  explain. 
When  viewing  objects  in  art  or  nature,  the  artist  beholds  them  without  desire  or 
without  the  action  of  the  will.  He  divests  things  of  their  accidental  surround- 
ings ;  he  sees  the  real  essence  of  the  things,  that  is,  the  idea  which  lies  beyond 
time,  space  and  causality.  The  mind  is  completely  absorbed,  and  the  will  is,  for 
the  time  being,  silenced.  He  who  thus  enjoys  art  is  in  a  will-less  state,  he  feels 
not  its  wants.  This,  no  doubt,  is  the  true  enjoyment  of  art.  It  is  the  divine 
character  of  the  beautiful,  inherent  in  every  true  work  of  art,  that  lifts  us  out  of 
our  every -day  existence,  that  ennobles  our  thoughts  and  emotions.  The  beau- 
tiful can  have  but  one  source,  it  can  be  concentrated  in  but  one  being,  and  this  is 
none  other  than  God.  True  art  therefore  brings  us  in  contact  with  the  Divine  idea, 
and  in  this  sense  all  true  art  must  be  sacred.  Pure  art  impressions,  therefore, 
must  be  good,  and  for  the  time  being  they  gently  whisper  peace  to  our  souls. 
This  aesthetic  contemplation,  however,  affords  us  only  temporary  relief,  it  sup- 
presses the  will  for  a  brief  period  only.  This  temporary  state  of  elevation, 
together  with  the  mental  culture  brought  about  by  true  art  studies,  shows  the 
benign  influence  of  the  beautiful  when  we  take  it  into  our  hearts.  Schopen- 
hauer says  it  is  the  aim  of  all  the  arts  to  express  the  true  essence  of  things  ;  and 
this  expression  of  the  essence  of  things  brings  me  to  the  ultimate  object  of  my 
lecture,  namely,  the  philosophy  of  music. 

Schopenhauer  starts  out  by  saying  that  Music  stands  alone  ;  that  it  is  separated 
from  all  the  other  arts.  Being  neither  an  imitation  of  anything  created,  nor  a 
repetition  of  anything  seen,  not  even  a  repetition  of  ideas  of  objects,  it  must, 
nevertheless,  be  analogous  to  the  other  arts  ;  it  must  stand  in  the  same  relations 
to  the  world  as  the  representation  stands  to  the  real  thing,  as  the  copy  stands  to 
the  original.  These  relations,  however,  must  be  very  intimate,  true  and  correct, 


SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY.  41 

for  music  is  readily  understood  and  most  deeply  felt  by  all  men.  The  question 
which  now  presents  itself  is  this  :  Wherein  consists  the  peculiar  relation  of  music 
to  the  world  ;  wherein  is  it  distinguished  from  the  other  arts  ?  In  answer,  the 
philosopher  says  it  is  the  object  of  the  arts  to  lead  to  the  cognition  of  ideas 
through  the  representation  of  objects.  They  all  represent  the  will,  but  only 
through  ideas,  through  objects.  Music,  on  the  other  hand,  needs  no  objects, 
it  represents  the  will  itself;  hence,  it  is  direct  in  its  operations,  and,  as  the 
will  is  the  same  everywhere,  music  is  easily  understood  and  felt  by  all  nations. 
Music,  therefore,  represents  the  real  thing,  the  thing  itself,  not  a  mere  appear- 
ance. The  other  arts  only  speak  of  the  shadow  ;  music  speaks  of  the  real  sub- 
stance, for  it  represents  the  will.  For  this  reason  it  can  be  said  that  music  could 
exist  without  this  world  ;  yes,  the  world  might  be  called  embodied  music,  and, 
continues  he,  were  we  able  to  give  a  perfect  and  satisfactory  explanation  of  music, 
we  would  also  have  the  true  philosophy  of  the  world  itself.  Music  is  the  melody, 
and  the  world  is  the  text  to  the  same.  In  the  lower  tones  of  harmony  we  recog- 
nize inorganic  nature  ;  in  the  voices  lying  between  bass  and  soprano  we  see  the 
successive  creations,  while  the  upper  voices  represent  the  higher  organic  law  and 
life.  In  the  melody  which  leads  the  whole  we  recognize  man.  There  is  a  limit 
to  the  depth  of  sound  beyond  which  no  tone  can  be  heard,  which  is  analogous  to 
the  fact  that  matter  must  have  form  in  order  that  it  may  be  perceptible.  The 
four  voices,  bass,  tenor  alto  and  soprano,  represent  the  mineral,  vegetable,  animal 
kingdoms,  and,  finally,  man  himself.  The  bass,  like  a  crude  mass,  moves  but 
slowly,  while  the  higher  voices  move  quicker  ;  yet  not  one  of  them  has  a  full 
meaning  without  the  melody,  which  leads  all,  which  imparts  ideas  and  senti- 
ments, and  which  expresses  the  will,  the  striving  of  man.  The  melody  tells  the 
most  secret  emotions  of  the  heart,  and  reveals  every  desire  of  the  human  will, 
hence,  it  is  called  the  language  of  emotions.  Wagner's  admiration  for  Schopen- 
hauer's musical  theories  is  mainly  based  upon  a  few  leading  principles,  one  of 
which  is  the  assigning  to  music  a  separate  and  higher  position  from  the  other 
arts ;  for  Wagner  has  abolished  melody,  at  least  in  that  sense  in  which  Schopen- 
hauer refers  to  it.  This  will  be  plain  when  I  refer  to  the  fact  that  he  points  to 
Rossini  as  the  master  of  melody.  Every  musical  student  at  all  conversant  with 
Wagner's  ideas  of  art,  knows  how  low  is  his  estimate  of  the  Italian  maestro  and 
his  art  work. 

Our  existence  in  life,  says  the  philosopher,  is  a  continued  alternating  of  desires 
•Sind  gratifications.  The  will  is  forever  wanting,  and  it  strives  continually  to  gratify 
*ts  wants.  We  really  know  but  two  states  while  in  the  body,  the  state  of  want 
and  the  state  of  satisfaction  ;  the  conditions  of  desire  and  gratification.  Analo- 
gous to  this,  music  has  but  two  leading  chords,  from  which  all  others  are  derived. 
These  are  the  tonic  chord  and  the  dominant  chord  of  the  seventh.  The  first  is  a 
chord  of  rest  and  calmness,  the  second  is  a  chord  of  unrest,  of  longing  and  striv- 
ing. Music  is  a  continued  succession  of  these  two  chords,  and  in  this  is  repre- 
sented our  never-ceasing  desires  as  followed  by  gratification.  Thus,  the  composer 
reveals  the  innermost  condition  of  our  souls,  he  speaks  the  greatest  truth,  and 
speaks  it  in  a  language  which  reason  comprehends  not,  but  a  language  which  is 
understood  alike  by  men  the  world  over.  This  art  of  disclosing  all  the  secret 
desires  of  the  will  through  the  agency  of  tone,  is  the  work  of  a  genius,  who,  in 


42  SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

producing  music,  does  not  labor  so  much  with  a  purpose  or  with  the  understand- 
ing, but  by  inspiration,  which  puts  him  in  a  state  of  clairvoyance,  as  it  were. 
The  simple  idea  of  reasoning  in  the  act  of  composing  music  is  fruitless.  Like  a 
somnambulist,  the  composer  gives  himself  over  to  uttering  revelations  without 
reasoning  about  what  he  does.  He  speaks  or  writes  of  that  which,  in  a  state  of 
wakefulness,  he  has  no  idea.  Hence,  it  may  be  said  that  in  the  musician  the 
artist  is  more  effectually  separated  from  the  man  itself  than  among  other  artists. 
Hence,  also,  it  is  that  the  act  of  composing  music  is  looked  upon  as  more  myste- 
rious than  is  that  of  painting,  cutting  marble  or  writing  poetry.  This  is  a  second 
principle  which  Wagner  endorses.  In  his  little  book  entitled  "Beethoven,"  he 
says  that  "  through  the  effect  of  music  upon  us  our  vision  is  depotentialized  in 
such  a  way  that  even  with  open  eyes  we  no  longer  see  intensively.  And,  in  fact, 
it  is  only  in  this  state  that  we  immediately  belong  to  the  musician's  world.  From 
this  world,  which  otherwise  we  have  no  means  of  portraying,  the  musician, 
by  the  disposition  of  his  tones  in  a  certain  measure,  spreads  a  net  for  us; 
or,  again,  he  besprinkles  our  perceptive  faculties  with  the  miracle-working 
drops  of  his  sounds  in  such  a  manner  that  they  are  incapacitated,  as  if  by 
magic,  for  the  reception  of  any  impressions  other  than  those  of  our  own  inner 
world." 

In  another  place,  when  speaking  of  the  clairvoyant  state  in  which  the  com- 
poser writes,  the  same  author  says  :  "  Only  one  state  can  surpass  his  own,  that 
of  the  saint ;  and  that  especially  because  it  is  enduring  and  incapable  of  being 
clouded,  while  on  the  other  hand,  the  enrapturing  clairvoyance  of  the  musician 
alternates  with  a  continued  returning  state  of  individual  consciousness,  which 
must  be  thought  only  the  more  miserable  in  proportion  as  the  inspired  state  ele- 
vates him  higher  above  all  limits  of  individuality.  For  this  reason,  i.  e. ,  the  suf- 
ferings with  which  he  must  pay  for  the  state  of  inspiration  in  which  he  enrap- 
tures us  so  inexpressibly,  the  musician  may  well  appear  to  us  as  worthier  of  rev- 
erence than  other  artists,  indeed,  as  almost  possessing  a  claim  to  our  veneration. 
For  his  art,  in  fact,  sustains  the  same  relations  to  the  complex  of  the  other  arts 
that  religion  does  to  the  church. ' ' 

Now  let  us  return  to  our  two  chords,  those  of  rest  and  unrest.  Quick  succession 
from  want  to  gratification,  says  Schopenhauer,  produces  pleasure.  So  melodies 
and  harmonies  with  quick  successions  from  the  dominant  to  the  tonic  are  cheer- 
ful and  please  us  at  once.  Being  sprightly  and  easily  understood,  they  gratify 
•  the  uncultivated,  those  in  whom  the  will  rules  supreme  as  yet  While  melodies 
of  a  slow  character,  melodies  with  complicated  harmonies  which  fail  to  step 
quickly  from  the  dominant  into  the  tonic,  produce  slow  gratification  ;  hence,  they 
are  sad,  they  deny  or  curb  the  will,  and  for  this  reason  fail  to  please  those  who  lack 
musical  culture.  Mazzini  says  that  this  is  preeminently  the  nature  of  German 
music,  that  it  is  too  elegiac  in  its  character.  In  short,  it  may  be  said  that  there 
is,  according  to  the  Italian  writer,  too  much  of  the  "  Weltschmerz  "  in  it 

A  melody  which  never  leaves  the  original  key  fails  to  interest  us ;  it  represents 
neither  want  nor  gratification,  it  is  therefore  unlike  life,  it  is  lifeless.  Man  does 
not  stand  isolated,  but  is  related  to  and  connected  with  the  lower  beings,  and 
these  again  are  connected  with  beings  of  still  lower  grades ;  so  melody  is  only 
perfect  in  harmony,  which  enables  it  to  make  more  powerful  impressions.  Music 


SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY.  43 

that  speaks  less  of  want  and  more  of  gratification,  music  with  light  melodies  and 
simple  harmonies,  bespeaks  only  light  emotions. 

Music  is  a  living  language,  it  is  a  universal  language,  it  pictures  and  expresses 
every  shade  of  sentiment,  and  does  so  far  more  powerfully  than  does  the  language 
of  words.  Yet,  when  it  portrays  joy,  sorrow  or  love,  it  does  not  depict  any  par- 
ticular joy,  sorrow  or  love,  but  it  gives  us  simply  these  states  of  mind  in  general. 
In  this  particular  direction  music  reveals  to  us  the  quintessence  of  life  itself,  and 
the  heart,  therefore,  understands  this  language  and  its  emotions  without  seeking 
to  know  the  motives  that  produced  them.  But,  inasmuch  as  our  thinking  facul- 
ties do  not  like  to  remain  idle  while  the  imagination  is  active,  we  clothe  music 
with  the  word,  we  have  accompanied  it  with  action  ;  and  this  leads  us  to  song, 
the  oratorio  and  the  opera.  Though  music  does  give  us  the  quintessence  of  life 
itself,  it  never  can  picture  situations  or  events ;  hence,  programme  music  is 
against  the  spirit  of  the  art.  When  men,  therefore,  imitate  things,  scenes  and 
situations,  they  reduce  music  to  the  level  of  the  other  arts,  for  then  music  ceases 
to  address  the  heart  and  attempts  to  speak  to  the  head,  the  reason  and  intellect. 
Music  of  the  heart  touches  us ;  music  of  the  head  fails  to  reach  us  in  the  same 
degree  of  intensity.  Music,  when  it  appears  to  us  as  a  far-off  paradise,  is  so 
easily  felt,  yet  so  difficult  to  comprehend,  because  it  reveals  to  us  our  inner 
natures.  Says  Schopenhauer,  good  music  tells  us  what  we  are  or  what  we  might 
be.  It  gives  us  a  picture  of  life  full  of  love  and  void  of  its  sorrows.  It  is  the 
best  commentator  on  our  lives ;  hence,  when  listening  to  a  symphony,  continues 
he,  we  feel  as  if  the  secrets  of  our  hearts  had  been  told  us,  it  seems  as  if  our  lives 
were  passing  before  us,  without  being  able  to  say  wherein  consists  the  connection 
between  music  and  these  lives.  Hence,  music  is  the  lock  and  key  to  our  memo- 
ries and  our  affections.  When  listening  to  a  grand  piece  of  music  we  are  trans- 
planted into  a  world  of  sentiment,  into  the  land  of  imagination.  Our  emotions 
are  aroused  and  we  forget,  as  it  were,  the  real  world  without,  with  all  its  griefs 
and  sorrows,  and  we  exist  for  the  time  being  in  a  world  without  sorrow.  This 
reminds  one  forcibly  of  the  theory  of  preexistence  so  often  alluded  to  by  the 
ancient  Greek  writers,  when  speculating  about  the  effect  of  the  beautiful.  Good 
music,  continues  the  philosopher,  expresses  pure  emotions,  and  for  this  reason  it 
will  eventually  pass  around  the  world  and  remain  true  forever.  Poor  music  also 
expresses  human  sentiments  but  poorly  ;  and  for  this  reason  it  is  bound  to  die 
before  it  goes  very  far.  It  comes  not  from  the  heart,  hence  it  fails  to  go  to  the 
heart,  and  for  this  reason  it  lacks  true  life  and  must  pass  away. 

It  has  already  been  stated,  that  music  does  not  express  ideas,  but  affects  the 
soul  directly,  intensifying  and  purifying  our  emotions.  From  the  close  relations 
sustained  by  music  to  all  things,  and  especially  to  our  souls,  it  follows  that,  if 
words,  scenes,  or  actions  are  accompanied  with  suitable  music,  it  acts  as  the  best 
commentator.  No  art  operates  upon  man  so  directly  and  so  deeply  as  music,  and 
that  for  the  reason,  that  none  of  the  other  arts  permit  us  to  look  so  deep  into  the 
true  condition  of  the  things  of  this  world  as  music  does. 

When  comparing  the  productive  artist  with  the  reproductive  one,  Schopenhauer 
says,  that  the  power  of  composing  outweighs  that  of  executing.  A  good  musical 
composition  imperfectly  performed  gives  us  greater  pleasure  than  does  the  best 
performance  of  a  bad  composition.  A  bad  drama,  on  the  other  hand,  if  well 


44  SCHOPENHAUER'S  MUSICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

played,  gives  more  satisfaction  than  a  good  one  but  poorly  performed.  Much 
more  might  be  added  concerning  our  philosopher's  theories,  but  time  forbids. 

Schopenhauer,  no  doubt,  was  a  profound  thinker  who  uttered  many  true  words 
concerning  music,  but  he  advances  also  ideas  to  which  I  cannot  subscribe.  One 
of  his  objectionable  theories  is,  that  he  ascribes  to  music  those  powers  which 
thinking  men  accord  only  to  religion.  We  ah1  think  highly  of  music  ;  we  love  the 
art,  and  delight  to  know  that  by  common  consent  it  is  called  the  "  Divine  Art ;  " 
but  it  is  not  designed  to  supplant  religion. 

We  all  believe  in  the  existence  of  misery  and  suffering,  in  the  depravity  of 
human  nature ;  we  believe  in  the  need  of  a  change  of  heart,  of  a  relief  from 
suffering.  But  your  teacher  utterly  disavows  the  idea  that  music,  despite  its 
refining  and  soothing  influences,  can  accomplish  what  God  alone  can  do,  that  is, 
change  man's  heart  and  cause  him  to  look  for  a  perfect  peace  in  the  beyond. 
With  this  faith  firmly  fixed  in  our  hearts,  we  detract  nothing  from  either  art  or 
artist ;  nay,  we  are  all  the  better  enabled  to  accept,  to  enjoy,  and  to  use  music  as 
one  of  the  richest  and  best  gifts  God  ever  gave  to  man.  With  this  faith  firmly 
rooted  in  our  minds  and  hearts,  we  can  read  Schopenhauer,  accept  that  which  is 
good,  and  reject  that  which  is  false.  I  have  felt  it  to  be  my  duty  to  make  you 
acquainted  with  this  philosopher's  theories,  because  as  future  teachers  of  music, 
you  should  know  something  about  them.  Rousseau  has  already  said  that  musi- 
cians read  too  little,  and  it  may  well  be  added,  that  many  of  them  think  too  little. 
The  cause  of  musical  culture  is  fast  advancing  in  this  country,  and  the  time  is  near 
at  hand,  yes,  it  is  now,  when  teachers  of  music  are  expected  to  be  more  than 
skillful  players  and  singers.  The  world  demands  that  they  shall  be  well-read  men 
and  women,  capable  of  thinking  independently  about  their  art 


MUSIC  OF  NATURE. 


When  speaking  of  the  music  of  nature,  the  word  music  is  not  used  in  an  art- 
sense,  for  art-music  is  not  found  in  nature.  It  would  be  degrading  to  man  to 
intimate  that  he  learned  music  from  birds,  or  that  he  caught  it  from  the  whisper- 
ing winds,  for  the  same  hand  that  fashioned  the  bird  also  implanted  in  our 
breasts  the  love  of  song.  It  cannot,  however,  be  denied  that  the  voices  of  nature 
have  exercised  a  decided  influence  upon  the  development  of  the  art.  While  all 
intelligences  can  hear  the  sounds  of  nature,  not  every  one  hears  music  in  them. 
These  sounds  never  become  music  unless  our  own  heart-strings  vibrate  with  them. 
When  we  listen  to  music,  be  it  that  of  art  or  that  of  nature,  our  imagination 
must  aid  us  ;  we  must  have  song  in  our  hearts,  else  we  hear  nothing  but  sounds. 

Complete  silence,  like  complete  darkness,  is  unendurable ;  our  nature  revolts 
against  it.  God's  earth  is  one  of  motion,  therefore  one  of  sound.  The  earth 
whirls  onward  at  great  speed,  and  is  it  reasonable  to  suppose  that  it  moves  silently? 
Even  light  vibrates  and  produces  sound,  and  is  not  the  universe  full  of  it  ?  The 
noise  which  the  heavenly  bodies  are  supposed  to  produce  is  called  the  music  of 
the  spheres.  For  over  3000  years  the  idea  of  a  celestial  music  has  engaged  the 
human  mind.  It  is  this  sort  of  music  the  Psalmist  must  allude  to  when  he  says : 
"The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God."  Imagine  the  heavenly  bodies  speed- 
ing their  way  through  the  universe,  making  sounds  like  peals  of  mighty  organs, 
while  myriads  of  beings  shout  Hallelujah  in  honor  of  Hun  who  made  all  things. 
It  does  not  follow  because  we  cannot  hear  this  music  that  it  does  not  exist.  If 
we  could  strengthen  our  hearing  as  we  do  our  eyesight,  what  wondrous  sounds 
we  would  hear.  -  But  let  us  leave  the  heavens  and  visit  mother  earth,  whose 
sounds  we  do  hear. 

Doubtless,  you  all  have  heard  of  the  strange  sounds  which  the  statue  of  Mem- 
non  produces  at  sunrise.  On  the  island  of  Ceylon  there  is  heard  what  the 
natives  call  the  Devil's  music,  so  terrible  at  times  that  the  people  become  fright- 
ened. In  Thibet  there  are  heard  noises  which  seem  to  call  strangers  by  their 
names.  On  the  waters  of  the  Orinoco  there  are  heard  trumpet  sounds,  which 
the  people  call  the  voices  of  the  holy  trumpets,  while  near  its  shore  stands  a  rock 
which,  at  sunset,  produces  tones  deep  and  solemn,  like  those  of  an  organ.  On 
the  Isle  of  Bourbon  are  trees  the  leaves  of  which  sing.  On  the  battle-field  of 
Marathon  there  are  heard  noises  at  night  which  remind  one  of  the  march  of  an 
army.  It  is  said  that  Miltiades  is  still  passing  nightly  over  the  plains  where  he 
won  his  victory.  In  a  cave  in  Finland  there  are  heard  from  time  to  time  the  most 
horrible  sounds,  as  if  produced  by  wild  animals.  A  cavern  in  Hungary  emits 
sounds  that  resemble  the  firing  of  pistols.  Strange  noises  are  heard  in  oriental 

45 


46  MUgIC   AND  CULTURE. 

countries,  and  even  in  this  country,  which  are  produced  by  the  shifting  of  sand. 
There  is  a  certain  kind  of  rock  found  in  China,  which,  when  rubbed  with  the 
fingers,  produces  sounds  like  those  of  a  trumpet.  In  France  there  are  found 
rocks  which  produce  whole  chords  when  struck  with  the  palm  of  the  hand. 

The  sounds  produced  by  the  avalanches  as  they  come  down  mountain  sides  are 
described  as  something  bordering  on  the  terrible,  while  those  who  have  visited 
Vesuvius  when  about  to  be  active,  describe  the  sounds  produced  by  the  seething 
mass  as  altogether  fearful.  There  lived  near  my  home  a  person  known  all  over 
Germany  as  the  wild  hunter.  The  story  goes,  that  this  hunter,  who  was  a  rich 
baron,  murdered  his  family,  and  being  unable  to  find  rest  for  his  troubled  con- 
science, donated  his  mansion  to  the  Catholic  Church,  by  whom  it  was  afterward 
turned  into  a  monastery.  It  was  within  the  walls  of  that  old  building  that  I  lived 
for  three  years.  The  owner,  Baron  Roddenstein,  moved  into  two  castles  standing 
a  few  miles  east  of  my  home.  It  is  said  that  to  this  day  the  unfortunate  man 
wanders  from  one  castle  to  the  other,  and  those  who  are  courageous  enough 
to  approach  may  hear  the  shouts  of  men,  the  barking  of  dogs,  the  rattling  of 
wagons,  etc.  It  is  the  popular  belief  that  whenever  these  sounds  are  heard,  war 
is  to  follow  between  Germany  and  some  other  nation.  What  it  is  that  produces 
these  noises  is  not  known,  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  heat  and  electricity  are 
the  forces  to  which  many  of  them  are  attributable.  The  discovery  has  lately  been 
made  that  the  air,  under  process  of  heating  by  the  rays  of  the  sun,  emits  sounds. 
Several  French  savants,  in  order  to  investigate  this  fact,  ascended  in  a  balloon  at 
early  morning  and  remained  up  until  after  sunrise.  While  thus  above  the  clouds 
they  heard  beautiful  musical  sounds,  as  if  produced  by  a  gigantic  ^Eolian  harp. 

If  the  land  has  its  strange  voices,  the  mighty  deep  is  not  less  remarkable  on  that 
account.  Sailors  claim  that  the  sea  is  full  of  fairies  and  spirits  that  produce  these 
strange  noises.  On  the  coast  of  the  North  Sea  there  are  heard  sounds  which  seem 
to  come  from  a  person  in  great  distress.  On  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  one  hears  mys- 
terious sounds,  which  some  say  come  from  singing  fishes,  while  others  ascribe  them 
to  the  waters  rushing  through  coral  caves.  Near  Land's  End,  in  England,  there 
are  heard  sounds  which  the  fishermen  attribute  to  spirits  of  the  deep.  These 
noises  are  no  doubt  produced  by  the  rocks  on  the  Cornish  coast.  On  the  .^Egean 
Sea  there  are  heard  tones  which  resemble  chords  struck  by  a  guitar.  They  arise 
from  the  waves  washing  upon  loose  stones.  The  drops  of  water  falling  within  the 
Fingal's  Cave  produce  a  most  pleasing  effect  to  the  poetic  mind,  and  Mendelssohn 
could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  introduce  their  lovely  chime  in  his  overture  to 
the  Hebrides. 

The  echo  is  one  of  nature's  mocking  instruments.  The  Hebrews  call  it  the 
laughter  of  the  voice.  The  ancients  believed  it  to  be  a  nymph,  who,  having  been 
deceived  by  her  lover,  was  turned  into  a  tear,  and  nothing  was  left  her  but  the 
voice  with  which  she  replies  to  the  passions.  An  echo  in  England  repeats  every- 
thing three  tones  lower.  Another  repeats  a  word  seven  times  in  day  and  twenty 
times  at  night.  An  echo  in  Russia  repeats  one  word  one  hundred  times,  while 
another  in  Algiers  does  so  one  thousand  times.  If  we,  like  the  echo,  must  repeat 
what  we  have  heard,  let  us,  like  it,  be  at  least  truthful,  if  we  cannot  be  charitable. 

Humboldt,  in  his  "Views  of  Nature,"  describes  a  scene  near  the  Orinoco  river. 
Having  stopped  with  his  party  near  the  edge  of  one  of  those  impenetrable  woods 


MUSIC  OF  NATURE.  47 

so  plentiful  in  South  America,  they  hung  up  their  hammocks,  surrounded  their 
camp  with  fire,  in  order  to  protect  themselves  against  the  attacks  of  wild  animals. 
They  rested  undisturbed,  except  by  the  snoring  of  the  Delphines  in  the  river,  and 
by  the  approach  of  alligators,  who  raised  their  heads  in  order  to  see  the  strangers. 
At  eleven  o'clock,  however,  there  was  heard  such  a  noise  in  the  woods  that  all  sleep 
was  at  an  end.  The  strangest  and  wildest  mixture  of  sounds  reached  their  ears. 
The  jaguar,  the  tiger,  and  Brazilian  lion  were  out  on  a  hunt.  Their  roars  resounded 
in  the  woods ;  their  basses  were  accompanied  by  the  tenors  of  the  larger  and  smaller 
monkeys,  while  the  parrots  and  pheasants,  with  their  loud  screams,  made  up  the 
sopranos  and  altos.  At  one  time  they  screamed  together,  then  they  howled  alter- 
nately. Presently  a  tiger's  voice  was  heard  in  the  tree-tops,  while  the  whole 
monkey  family  affrighted,  fled  with  screams  and  snarls.  This,  in  turn,  alarmed 
the  birds,  who  shrieked  with  terror  and  fled.  But,  hark  !  a  jaguar  has  caught  a 
wild  pig,  and  while  the  poor  animal  screams  in  the  death  agony,  the  successful 
hunter  growls  loudly  to  keep  his  jealous  companions  away.  Thus,  the  whole 
animal  creation  seemed  wild  and  terror-stricken.  But,  to  heighten  the  effect,  a 
violent  storm  set  in ;  lightning  flashed,  the  thunder  roared,  the  wind  howled, 
bending  the  palms,  and  breaking  off  limbs  of  trees  with  terrific  crashes.  Thus, 
it  may  be  said  that  ah1  creation  was  in  a  terrible  turmoil.  This  is  one  of  nature's 
wildest  concerts,  of  which  we  happily  know  nothing.  The  storm  king  is  a  mighty 
sovereign  ;  he  rides  over  hills  and  mountains ;  he  sweeps  through  valleys  and  along 
rivers ;  he  tries  everything  to  make  his  voice  heard  ;  he  uses  trees  like  so  many 
harps,  and  their  liinbs  like  so  many  strings  ;  he  whistles  on  reeds  and  howls  in 
caverns,  and  when  he  lays  hands  upon  the  thousands  of  instruments  in  his  way, 
there  are  heard  shrieks  and  wailings,  while  lightnings  illumine  his  way,  and  the 
thunder,  like  a  huge  drum,  beats  time  to  his  terrible  march.  What  a  spectacle 
when  the  elements  rage,  when  the  rain  comes  down  in  torrents,  when  the  wind 
breaks  off  the  limbs  of  trees,  as  an  excited  harpist  snaps  the  strings  of  his  instru- 
ment, and  when  the  earth  seems  to  be  shaken  to  its  very  centre  ? 

The  sea  is  the  mightiest  organ  among  nature's  musical  instruments.  Even  when 
still  its  vastness  impresses  us,  and  the  mighty  waters  lie.  like  nature's  largest  child, 
hi  a  cradle,  gently  rocking  itself.  When  the  tide  comes  in  the  little  waves  that 
come  on  shore  seem  to  say,  "  Step  back,  or  I  wet  your  feet,"  and  they  come  just 
near  enough  to  cause  you  to  fear  that  they  will  do  so,  when  suddenly,  with  laugh- 
ter, they  recede,  as  if  they  had  merely  tried  to  frighten  you.  Listen  !  Hear  the 
laughter,  the  incessant  chatter  of  the  bubbling  ripples.  Behold  the  beautiful 
bright  sunlight  shining  upon  them,  reflecting  the  rays  like  sparkling  diamonds, 
while  the  pebbles  and  sand  beneath  form  a  rich  background.  Verily  the  best 
artist  fails  when  attempting  to  paint  such  a  scene. 

The  calm  sea  talks  gently,  but  when  the  storms  rage  you  hear  the  sea  moan 
and  sing,  then  its  slumbering  powers  are  aroused,  and  the  waters  rush  through 
caverns,  producing  sounds  like  the  deep  murmurings  of  an  earthquake.  Wildly 
the  waves  dash  against  the  rocks,  turning  into  foam  and  spray,  yelling  and 
screaming,  and  falling  back  in  utter  weakness  before  the  boundaries  God  has  set 
for  them.  As  the  wind  increases  in  fury  the  waves,  with  their  mighty  artillery, 
make  a  still  grander  and  louder  noise.  They  rise  higher  and  higher  until  they 
hide  the  very  moon  from  our  sight  They  spring  at  each  other  like  fighting  war- 


48  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

riors,  they  howl  like  huge  dragons,  and  like  sea  monsters  ready  to  devour,  rush 
upon  you  ;  those  waves  which  but  an  hour  ago  played  at  your  feet.  Hear  the 
grand  breakers,  listen  to  the  trumpet  sounds  of  the  wind,  sending  its  blasts  boldly 
over  land  and  sea.  That  is  battle  music  ;  the  wind  is  a  great  commander,  and 
the  sea  is  a  mighty  army. 

But  if  God's  earth  is  beautiful  in  its  grandeur,  it  is  also  worthy  of  our  admira- 
tion in  the  smaller  forms  of  creation.  There  is  sweet  sound  in  the  rippling  waves, 
in  the  rustling  leaves,  in  the  whispering  winds,  in  the  chirp  of  the  cricket,  in  the 
songs  of  the  birds,  for  all  these  sounds  are  but  so  many  stops  in  the  great  organ 
of  nature. 

Birds  are  nature's  best  and  sweetest  singers,  and  theirs  was  no  doubt  the  first 
song  of  praise  and  thanks  that  arose  to  the  heavens,  for  birds  sang  before  man 
was  made.  Let  me  describe  for  you  a  bird  concert.  Spring-time  is  the  season 
when  the  birds  sing  sweetest.  It  is  in  that  pleasant  time  of  the  year  when  the 
hillsides  are  first  green,  when  the  cattle  graze  leisurely,  causing  the  monotonous 
tinkle  of  the  cowbells  to  be  heard  far  and  near,  making  the  stillness  of  a  May 
morn  all  the  more  apparent.  The  trees  are  covered  with  blossoms,  and  look  like 
huge  bouquets  stuck  in  the  ground.  These  are  the  halls  hi  which  the  birds  give 
their  concerts.  Not  only  have  they  elegant  halls;  they  themselves  are  more 
beautifully  arrayed  than  the  most  elegantly  dressed  prima  donna  or  the  most 
gaudily  uniformed  brass  band.  They  charge  no  admission,  they  wait  for  no  late 
comers,  they  care  for  no  applause,  neither  do  they  mind  your  criticism.  The 
birds  give  several  concerts  each  day,  the  best  of  which  takes  place  just  before 
sunrise.  Nature  is  yet  still ;  even  Mr.  Rooster,  whose  voice  was  heard  every 
hour  during  the  night,  is  taking  another  nap  with  his  hen  family.  He  who  is  up 
that  early  and  listens  will  now  hear  one  voice  and  then  another,  as  if  calling  out 
"are  you  awake?  are  you  ready  for  the  concert?  let  us  begin" — and  presently 
there  are  heard  voices  coming  from  out  of  the  hedges  and  trees  saying,  yes,  we 
are  ready,  and  then  begins  the  contest  of  song.  There  are  the  blackbirds,  who 
come  in  small  armies,  who  sing  the  choruses  with  their  monotonous  chirps.  They 
are  the  monkeys  of  the  bird  family,  with  their  incessant  chatter.  Then  there  is 
heard  the  merry  voice  of  Master  Robin,  laughing  aloud  as  he  flies  from  fence-post 
to  fence-post,  and  from  tree  to  tree,  as  if  saying,  I  am  not  afraid  of  you ;  you 
can't  catch  me.  Then  there  is  heard  the  whistle  of  the  red  bird,  sharp  as  a 
piccolo  flute,  while  Master  Woodpecker,  with  his  red  military  cap,  beats  the  drum. 
The  busy  wren,  ever  moving,  sings  lustily,  while  the  catbird,  our  sweetest  and 
most  modest  singer,  lets  his  voice  be  heard  from  the  close  pines.  Then  there  is 
heard  that  voice  of  peace  and  sorrow,  gentle  and  sweet,  the  coo  of  the  dove — 
mournful  but  always  tender.  The  richly  colored  jays,  too,  let  their  war-cry  be 
heard,  interchanging  it  once  in  a  while  with  that  modest  and  loving  call  for  their 
mates.  On  the  barn  over  yonder  are  sitting  the  martins  ;  they  form  a  straight 
line,  first  looking  to  one  side  then  to  the  other,  chatting  and  talking  as  if  they 
were  repeating  the  most  important  tales  about  their  late  trip  from  the  Southland. 
Thus  the  singing  continues  for  about  half  an  hour,  after  which  birds  make  their 
toilet  and  take  their  breakfast.  The  sun  having  risen,  birds,  like  lazy  fellows, 
now  cease  to  sing,  and,  like  idle  loafers,  they  sit  under  cover  of  shady  trees  or  go 
on  foraging  expeditions.  Toward  evening  another  concert  takes  place.  Then  the 


MUSIC  OP  NATURE.  49 

catbird  does  his  best.  He  perches  himself  upon  the  topmost  limb  of  a  tree  and 
sings  as  if  his  throat  Would  split.  Oh,  how  often  have  I  stopped  the  piano  for 
the  pleasure  of  listening  to  our  sweetest  vocalist,  the  catbird.  How  appropriate 
were  the  little  girl's  words,  who,  when  hearing  a  catbird  for  the  first  time,  said: 
' '  What  make  he  sing  so ;  do  he  eat  flowers ' '  ?  Master  Robin  now  goes  for  the  late 
worm,  and  holding  his  head  high,  as  becomes  a  free  bird,  he  proudly  hops  along 
the  closely  mown  lawn,  until  after  finding  his  supper  he  rises  with  a  merry  laughter 
to  the  nearest  tree.  The  redbird  is  not  to  be  outdone,  and  his  whistle  is  heard  far 
and  near,  while  poor  disconsolate  Mrs.  White  calls  loud  and  long  for  her  husband, 
Bob,  to  come  home,  a  place  he  never  seems  to  be.  In  the  meantime  the  sun  has 
gone  down  and  birds  begin  to  seek  their  shelter.  One  by  one  their  voices  are 
hushed,  only  the  blackbirds  are  heard  to  chatter,  like  folks  who  must  talk  them- 
selves to  sleep.  At  last  they  too  are  quiet,  only  here  and  there  one  seems  to  call 
out :  "Didn't  we  have  fun  though?  Are  you  all  in  bed?  Be  sure  and  be  up 
early !  Look  out  for  the  owls, ' '  etc.  At  last  darkness  covers  the  earth,  but  silence 
does  not  reign,  for  now  the  owls  cry  for  their  nightly  food.  This  unhappy  bird 
always  seems  to  be  like  the  soul  cast  into  outer  darkness,  where  its  piteous  cry 
awakens  sympathy.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  no  bird  of  prey  sings.  So 
people  who  study  only  the  things  of  this  world,  those  who  selfishly  prey  upon 
their  fellows,  generally  have  no  music  hi  their  souls. 

No  birds  have  musically-arranged  melodies.  Many  of  their  strains  have  been 
written  down,  and  it  has  been  found  that  most  of  them  have  a  variety  of  songs. 
Hear  the  robin  when  he  has  a  worm  in  his  bill,  and  flies  before  you  from  fence- 
post  to  fence-post,  in  order  that  you  may  see  his  good  luck.  Hear  his  chal- 
lenging sort  of  a  chirp.  Then  hear  the  same  robin  when  he  is  frightened  from 
his  nest,  or  hear  him  as  he  gives  the  little  robin  his  first  flying  lesson.  What 
a  voice  of  warning,  saying  almost  in  so  many  words,  "Don't  fall ;  don't  go  to  the 
ground  ;  look  out  for  the  cat,"  etc.  Then  hear  the  catbird  when  singing  his  best, 
and  again  hear  him  when  mewing  like  a  cat,  or  listen  to  the  jay  when  he  blows 
his  bugle,  and  again  when  he  gently  calls  his  mate.  But  enough  of  this.  The 
finest  singer  there  is  to  be  found  in  all  the  winged  kingdom  is  the  nightingale. 
This  bird  sings  at  night,  which  fact,  it  is  claimed,  gives  to  its  song  a  peculiar 
charm.  There  must,  however,  be  something  extraordinary  connected  with  it, 
else  poets  of  all  ages  would  not  have  sung  of  the  nightingale.  He  who  hears  it 
for  the  first  time,  if  he  has  any  music  in  his  heart,  will  stand  spellbound  and 
listen.  Its  singing  is  the  most  characteristic  of  any  bird's  song,  it  is  entirely 
unlike  that  of  any  others.  Whether  there  is  such  a  place  as  bird  heaven  or  not, 
I  agree  with  a  writer  who  said,  that  if  he  were  St.  Peter  he  would  exclude  no 
bird  from  the  blessed  abode.  The  raven  he  would  admit  because  of  the  poet, 
yes,  even  the  owls  would  be  welcomed,  and  each  should  have  a  hollow  tree  and 
as  many  mice  as  he  could  eat. 

The  songs  of  insects  are  numerous  and  varied.  We  hear  their  noises,  but  fail 
to  appreciate  the  wondrous  rapidity  of  motion  required  to  produce  them.  The 
common  house-fly,  which,  by  the  way,  is  said  to  sing  always  in  the  key  of  F, 
makes  320  vibrations  per  second  in  order  to  produce  a  sound,  and  if  this  motion 
continues  only  for  one  minute,  not  less  than  20,000  vibrations  are  required. 
When  listening  to  this  thoughtless,  careless  insect  after  walking  into  the  spider's 
4 


50  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

parlor,  one  doubts  not  in  the  least  that  it  produces  20, 000  vibrations  per  minute. 
How  proper  that  the  treacherous,  deceitful,  bloodthirsty  spider  should  be  voice- 
less. Can  any  of  my  readers  imagine  what  a  spider's  voice  should  be  in  order 
to  give  expression  to  its  character  ? 

Probably  all  of  you  will  agree  that  the  mosquito  is  the  most  noted  singer ;  it 
never  fails  to  arrest  our  attention,  and  it  surely  never  fails  to  draw.  There  is, 
however,  another  and  far  noisier  visitor  of  our  bed-rooms  who  makes  the  night 
hideous.  I  mean  Mr.  Pinch-bug.  Though  he  needs  a  bigger  door  to  enter  than 
the  mosquito,  he  usually  manages  to  find  a  place  to  enter.  But  no  sooner  is  he 
in  than  he  tries  hard  to  get  out  again,  and  with  an  angry  whirr  and  whizz  he 
explores  the  ceiling,  giving  every  now  and  then  a  dart  against  it,  as  if  he  meant 
to  strike  through  and  through.  How  delightful  to  lie  in  bed  while  one  of  these 
chaps  gives  us  a  serenade,  expecting  every  minute  that  he  will  fall  into  our  very 
face.  How  pleasant  to  the  ear  when  at  last  he  comes  down,  scraping  the  wall 
with  his  claws,  as  if  trying  in  vain  to  hold  on.  The  hornet  and  humblebee,  those 
tigers  of  the  air,  whizz  by  you  and  actually  make  you  dodge,  as^  if  they  were 
pistol  balls.  When  the  humblebee  settles  upon  a  flower  he  appears  to  me  like 
a  grizzly -bearded  western  hunter,  like  an  old,  old  bachelor  trying  to  kiss  a  sweet- 
faced  young  lassie.  His  rough  yet  tender  tones  of  courtship  are  something 
worthy  of  special  notice.  "What  a  delight  it  must  be  to  be  nestled  between  rose 
leaves  that  diffuse  delightful  perfume,  that  supply  sweet  honey.  'Tis  no  wonder 
the  humblebee  sings  merrily  when  he  swings  to  and  fro  in  his  couch  of  roses. 

The  katydid  has  attracted  everybody's  attention,  and  many  times  I  asked  myself : 
What  was  it  that  Katy  did  ?  It  must  have  been  something  terrible,  else  they 
would  long  ago  have  ceased  telling  us  that  Katy  did.  Like  slanderers,  these 
tattlers  keep  themselves  hidden,  but  their  slandering  voices  are  heard  half  a 
mile  off.  Who  was  Katy  anyway  ?  Was  she  richly  dressed  in  satins  and  silks, 
or  did  she  go  about  in  poor  and  torn  garments  ?  Was  she  meek,  or  did  she  act 
the  part  of  a  regular  Tom-girl?  Did  she  flirt  and  break  some  gentleman's  heart, 
or  was  she  disappointed  in  love,  and  did  she  die  of  a  broken  heart  ?  What  was  it 
that  Katy  did? 

We  must  not  neglect  the  frogs,  it  will  never  do.  I  love  to  hear  their  monoto- 
nous song  at  night,  for  it  is  always  a  harbinger  of  good  weather  and  pleasant 
spring-tune.  Don't  call  the  frogs  croakers,  for  they  are  merry  fellows,  cold- 
blooded fellows  though  they  are.  Don't  say  that  a  frog's  home  is  dreary,  for 
above  him  often  blooms  the  pond-lily,  while  to  the  right  and  left  are  beautiful 
arbors  of  grass,  where  he  sits  and  sings  to  his  love,  good  night,  good  night,  and 
as  he  looks  up  at  the  beautiful  lilies,  he  cries,  how  white,  how  white;  when  the 
moon  rises  he  tells  his  lady  love  that  there  is  the  moon,  the  moon,  and  so  Master 
Frog  goes  on  singing  until  he  swells  up  with  love  and  pride  and  becomes  big, 
until  at  last  he  is  sought  by  some  prowling  fellow  on  account  of  his  tender  legs. 
Then  poor  froggy  must  hang  up  the  fiddle  and  the  bow,  and  must  go  to  the  place 
where  all  fat  frogs  have  to  go. 

The  barnyard  is  alive  with  curious  and  interesting  voices.  The  most  talkative 
is  the  hen  family.  What  a  fuss  and  a  noise  a  hen  makes  after  the  laying  of  an 
egg,  like  many  people,  who  never  do  a  good  act  without  proclaiming  it  to  the 
world.  But  listen  to  that  same  hen  when  quietly  strolling  along  in  search  of  a 


MUSIC  OF  NATURE.  51 

grain  of  wheat,  and  hear  how  her  tones  pine  and  whine,  as  if  saying  what  a  bar- 
ren world  this  is,  with  nothing  to  eat.  Again,  listen  to  that  hen  when  she  calls 
her  brood,  and  you  hear  a  tender  and  yet  a  very  commanding  sort  of  a  tone.  Her 
husband,  Mr.  Rooster,  is  still  more  noisy.  See  him  as  he  flies  on  a  fence,  spreading 
his  wings  and  crowing  lustily,  as  if  he  were  the  monarch  of  all  he  surveys.  Next, 
observe  him,  when  finding  a  good  morsel,  how  gallantly  he  calls  the  hens  to  par- 
take of  it.  He  fairly  seems  to  say,  quick,  quick,  here  is  something  good  to  eat, 
but  if  they  fail  to  come  quickly,  Mr.  Rooster  eats  the  best  morsel  himself. 

'Tis  amusing  to  hear  young  piggie  when  waiting  for  his  meal.  What  a  discon- 
tented and  injured  sort  of  a  cry  he  has,  as  if  saying,  'tis  too  bad  to  treat  an  animal 
like  myself  in  this  sort  of  a  way — I  won't  stand  it  any  longer.  But  come  unawares 
upon  a  porker  and  hear  the  ugh  with  which  he  starts  off.  Or  hear  him  when  a 
dog  has  him  by  the  ear.  What  a  cry  of  distress.  The  swine  family  have 
some  connection  with  art.  Louis  XI,  King  of  France,  while  listening  to  the 
grunting  of  some  swine,  expressed  the  desire  that  a  pig  concert  be  arranged  for 
his  enjoyment.  His  court  musician  at  once  went  to  work.  He  selected  large  and 
small  pigs,  had  them  put  into  boxes  which  stood  in  a  row.  Before  these  he 
fastened  a  keyboard,  and  arranged  it  in  such  a  manner  that  by  striking  it  pins 
would  penetrate  the  skin  of  the  poor  animals.  All  arrangements  being  com- 
pleted, a  pig  concert  was  actually  given  at  Versailles.  The  music  is  said  to  have 
been  very  pleasing  to  the  royal,  and,  I  may  say,  piggish  audience. 

The  horse  has  a  merry  laughter  which  runs  through  the  entire  scale.  His 
voice  always  expresses  impetuosity  and  courage.  Place  by  the  side  of  it  the  cow's 
lowing  or  the  bawling  of  the  calf,  and  we  perceive  in  the  difference  of  the  cries 
also  the  difference  in  the  characters  of  the  animals.  Even  Master  Donkey,  the 
much-abused  and  wickedly  despised  brute,  should  not  be  forgotten  in  our  visit  to 
the  barnyard.  Mrs.  Partington  once  asked  the  doctor  whether  Ike  had  a  musical 
ear,  and  when  he  replied  that  he  knew  not,  she  requested  him  to  take  the  candle 
and  see.  Surely  we  need  no  candles  to  see  donkeys'  ears,  and  from  their  size  one 
ought  to  suppose  them  to  be  good  for  music.  But  even  in  this  instance  nature 
seems  to  have  given  the  ears  without  musical  purposes.  Jack  begins  with  a 
modest  whistle,  and  then  gradually  rises  to  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  suddenly 
sinks  to  its  lowest  depth.  He  has  been  honored  by  poets  and  musicians. 
Mendelssohn  imitated  his  beautiful  cry  in  his  "Midsummer  Night's  Dream." 
But  I  have  said  enough  about  assinine  music,  though  the  subject  is  by  no  means 
exhausted. 

Let  me  tell  you  something  about  a  cat  organ  that  was  built  in  the  earlier  part 
of  this  century.  There  lived  a  man  in  Cincinnati  at  that  time  by  the  name  of 
Curtis,  who  conceived  the  idea  of  getting  up  a  cat  concert  for  the  benefit  of  the 
river  men.  He  resided  near  Western  Row,  where  cats  abounded  and  where  lie 
had  no  difficulty  in  procuring  all  the  specimens  he  needed.  They  had  kept  him 
awake  many  a  night,  and  often  he  threw  stones,  bottles  and  even  his  boot-jack  at 
them,  so  he  thought  he  would  try  and  utilize  their  musical  powers.  First  he 
made  experiments  with  a  few  cats,  sticking  them  with  pins,  pulling  their  ears, 
etc.,  in  order  to  draw  out  the  best  sounds.  At  last  he  discovered  that  the  safest 
way  to  make  a  cat  scream  was  to  hit  its  tail.  Having  made  this  discovery,  be 
gave  orders  to  a  carpenter  to  build  him  an  organ,  on  which  he  was  to  play  the 


52  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

accompaniment  for  his  cats.  Next,  he  procured  the  cats  and  trained  them.  He 
placed  each  animal  in  a  small  box  with  four  holes  in  the  bottom,  designed  to  let 
the  animal's  legs  hang  through,  to  prevent  it  from  clawing.  The  head  was 
fastened  in  a  board  above  while  the  tails  were  enclosed  in  tubes  upon  which  ham- 
mers worked.  These  were  connected  with  the  keys  of  the  organ,  so  that  by 
playing  upon  them  the  hammers  were  moved.  At  last  Curtis  was  ready.  He 
had  procured  a  perfect  scale  of  cats'  voices,  from  the  two  months'  old  kitten  down 
to  the  regular  growling  Tom  bass.  He  hired  the  second  story  of  a  warehouse  situ- 
ated near  the  landing,  and  provided  a  sort  of  amphitheatre  for  his  audience.  At 
the  appointed  day  he  moved  all  his  cats  safely  to  the  hall,  except  the  two  principal 
basses,  who,  being  accidentally  put  into  one  box,  had  an  awful  fight  on  the  way 
up,  and  were  consequently  forced  to  appear  before  the  audience  with  bloody  noses 
and  rueful  faces.  Immense  posters  had  been  put  up  announcing  a  concert  of  forty- 
eight  cats,  and  a  large  crowd  with  a  good  sprinkling  of  boys  greeted  Mr.  Curtis. 
At  last  the  curtain  rose,  exposing  to  the  gaze  of  an  eager  audience  two  rows  of 
cats'  heads  glaring  with  lustrous  yellow  and  green  eyes.  They  all  had  little  ruffles 
around  their  necks.  Miniature  music-stands  were  placed  before  them.  The  two 
basses  who  had  a  fight  had  their  heads  ornamented  with  muslin  bands,  which 
added  greatly  to  the  gravity  of  their  looks.  At  the  organ  sat  Johnson,  ready 
to  start  the  music,  while  in  front  of  the  platform  stood  Curtis,  gravely  announc- 
ing that  the  first  tune  would  be,  as  he  pronounced  it,  Auld  Lang  Zion. 

This  announcement  having  been  made,  Johnson  started  off  with  his  music,  and 
there  were  heard  sounds  no  mortal  ear  ever  heard  before.  The  audience  shouted 
and  stamped,  which  excited  the  fury  of  the  cats  all  the  more ;  they  forgot  all 
their  lessons.  They  paid  no  attention  to  time  or  tune,  to  rhyme  or  reason  ;  they 
squalled  and  yelled,  they  clawed  and  spit,  and  phizzed  in  the  madness  of  pain, 
until  the  sound  of  the  organ  was  completely  drowned.  Suddenly  the  leather 
strap  of  Johnson's  organ  broke.  The  music  ceased,  but  the  cats  continued 
then-  song,  until  they  too,  one  after  another,  became  silent,  winking  and  blink- 
ing at  the  audience  in  fear  of  a  repetition.  The  audience,  however,  was  com- 
pletely overcome  and  enchanted.  Shouts  arose,  yells  were  heard,  such  as  only 
river  men  can  give  ;  they  stamped  the  floor  until  the  platform  not  only  shook, 
but  actually  gave  away.  Then  there  was  heard  the  wildest  mixture  of  laughing 
and  swearing.  Not  a  few  were  hurt  by  the  fall,  who,  in  their  anger,  began  dealing 
out  blows.  The  boys,  on  the  other  hand,  poked  the  cats  with  sticks,  adding 
greatly  to  the  confusion.  Being  unable  to  save  his  pets,  Curtis  removed  the  top 
board  and  gave  the  cats  their  liberty.  The  poor  creatures  at  once  darted  off  in 
every  direction,  some  finding  their  way  to  the  floor,  moving  wildly  between  the 
spectators'  feet,  while  others  ran  over  their  heads  or  over  their  backs.  Whoops 
and  yells,  hurrahs  and  shouts  were  heard  from  every  throat,  benches  were  broken, 
windows  were  smashed,  and  not  a  few  were  heard  to  cry  FIRE  !  The  terrible 
noise  attracted  the  attention  of  the  police,  but  with  their  best  endeavors  they 
failed  to  gain  admission.  At  last  the  old  engine,  Liberty,  No.  3,  threw  a  good 
stream  of  water  into  the  hall,  which  had  the  desired  effect.  Order  was  quickly 
established  and  the  hall  was  empty  in  an  extraordinary  short  space  of  time.  Thus 
ended  the  first  and  only  cat  concert  on  record,  an  event  which  was  talked  of  by  the 
river  men  for  years  afterward.  Curtis  and  Johnson,  of  course,  were  brought  before 


MUSIC  OP  NATURE.  53 

the  Mayor,  but  upon  explaining  the  cause  of  the  disturbance,  his  Honor  heartily 
laughed  and  told  them  never  to  do  so  again,  and  they  didn't. 

But  we  will  dismiss  the  animal  world  and  turn  to  the  home  of  man.  How  com- 
fortable to  be  seated  in  a  warm  room  on  a  cold  winter's  day  while  the  wind  howls 
and  blows  without.  The  wind,  as  has  been  said,  is  a  great  musician.  He  tries 
every  crevice,  every  crack,  every  loose  shutter,  every  swinging  sign,  to  make  his 
wild  music  heard,  and  if  he  cannot  sing  or  improvise  an  instrument  he  beats  the 
drum  by  slamming  doors  and  gates.  The  wind  tries  chimneys,  telegraph  wires, 
in  short,  everything  that  is  able  to  give  sound  he  uses  as  his  plaything.  There  is 
also  music  in  the  gentle  rainfall,  especially  when  snugly  settled  in  a  warm  bed  in 
some  plain  cabin,  with  the  nose  almost  against  the  shingles. 

When  fall  sets  [in,  how  cheery  sounds  the  crackling  of  the  fire.  Listen  how 
merrily  the  tea-kettle  sings  as  you  sit  calmly  in  your  rocking  chair  hearing  the 
cold  blasts  without.  Hear  the  solemn  tick  of  the  clock  speaking  ceaselessly  of  the 
flight  of  time.  Ah,  what  good  company  a  clock  is,  at  times. 

Having  mentioned  the  rocking  chair,  I  will  say  a  few  words  about  it.  The 
rockers  produce  different  sounds,  according  to  who  it  is  that  moves  them.  If 
Grandma  sits  in  the  chair,  knitting  and  swaying  to  and  fro,  the  rockers  keep  up  a 
sort  of  a  contented  purr,  a  drowsy  sort  of  creak ;  but  put  your  nervous  gentleman 
into  the  same  chair,  either  the  one  who  lives  on  nothing  but  business  or  the  one 
who  forever  wipes  his  hat  and  looks  every  few  minutes  at  his  watch ;  the  gentleman 
who  has  for  the  tenth  time  tried  to  propose  to  Miss  Sarah  Jane,  but  who  for  the 
tenth  time  failed  to  muster  up  courage  ;  when  he  sits  in  the  rocking  chair  it  pro- 
duces a  jerky  kind  of  a  Scotch  tune.  But  oh,  listen  to  that  same  old  chair  when 
it  is  freighted  with  aunt  Betsy,  the  good  aunty  who  weighs  well  nigh  on  to  two 
hundred  pounds.  When  she  rocks  you  hear  a  long  and  melancholy  whine  from 
the  rockers.  But  listen  when  two  or  three  little  ones  sit  in  it :  then  the  old 
chair  goes  whicketty  whack,  whicketty  whack,  as  if  enjoying  the  fun  with  the 
children. 

Having  taken  a  general  survey  of  nature's  sounds  and  musicians,  I  invite  you 
now  to  the  instrument  which  is  the  transition  from  nature  to  art,  namely,  the 
.ZEolian  harp,  the  instrument  made  by  the  hand  of  man  but  played  upon  by  the 
wind.  Its  tones  impress  me,  according  to  the  frame  of  mind  I  am  in.  Once 
they  sound  like  an  angelic  choir,  next  they  sing  like  the  sad  moans  of  a  fairy  that 
seems  to  be  imprisoned  in  the  little  pine  box.  Again,  they  have  sounded  to  me 
like  the  wailings  of  a  maiden  who  has  lost  a  true  lover,  or  like  the  secret  weep- 
ing of  the  mother  who  will  not  be  comforted  over  the  death  of  her  little  one. 
They  often  remind  me  of  the  wind  as  it  plays  through  pine  trees  and  weeping 
willows,  growing  on  the  graves  of  loved  ones.  Then  the  harp  speaks  to  me  of 
past  greatness,  of  the  valor  of  knighthood,  of  stately  castles  and  turreted  walls. 
While  listening  to  those  chords  my  mind  often  wanders  to  the  far-off  land  of  the 
South,  where  oranges  bloom  and  magnolias  perfume  the  air.  If  ever  there  was 
such  a  thing  as  a  swan-song,  it  must  have  been  as  the  zephyr-like  tones  of  the 
jEolian  harp.  They  can  paint  to  my  mind  the  world  in  the  softest  and  gentlest 
tints  ;  they  clothe  it  with  a  romance  that  causes  me  to  follow  them  whither  they 
lead  me.  Oh,  how  they  recall  the  ambition  of  the  past  and  cause  me  to  feel  the 
emptiness  of  the  present.  The  jEolian  harp  sings  sweetest  when  the  gentle  south 


54  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

wind  blows,  but  it  wails  and  sobs  when  the  rough  north  wind  sweeps  over  its 
strings. 

So  the  human  heart  loves  best  words  of  kindness  and  quickest  responds  to 
them,  while  when  rudely  touched  by  treachery,  by  unkindness,  by  deceit,  or  by 
the  many  adversities  of  life,  its  strings  vibrate  violently  or  break  and  cease  to 
sound  altogether.  Is  there  a  sadder  spectacle  in  all  this  world  than  a  broken 
heart  As  the  harp  will  only  produce  sweet  harmony  when  the  strings  are  tuned 
in  unison,  so  will  our  hearts  only  produce  sweet  concord  when  our  heart-strings 
are  tuned  in  unison  with  God's  will.  Let  then  the  gentle  winds  of  prosperity  or 
the  bitter  blasts  of  adversity  blow  upon  us,  we  will  at  all  times  produce  concord 
and  our  lives  will  be  to  others  as  sweet  music. 

But  there  is  one  more  instrument  I  must  speak  of,  the  freZZs,  the  sweet  bells, 
with  their  far-reaching  voices.  They,  too,  may  be  called  voices  of  nature.  Bells 
exercise  a  far  greater  influence  in  Europe  than  in  this  country.  There,  people 
usually  remain  all  their  lives  in  one  place,  and  as  bells  are  heard  under  many  and 
diverse  circumstances,  they  grow  deep  into  the  people's  affections.  The  bell 
which  calls  them  early  in  the  morning  to  offer  up  their  prayers  always  has  a  holy 
tone.  Often  have  I  stood  on  the  high  banks  of  the  river  Rhine  watching  the 
rising  sun  as  it  dispelled  the  veil  of  fog  that  rested  on  castles  and  river,  and  as 
I  listened  to  the  distant  church-bells  of  a  half-dozen  villages,  the  sweet  chimes 
turned  my  mind  heavenward,  and  inwardly  I  said,  "  God  bless  the  bells."  When 
the  cheery  eleven  o'clock  bell  rang,  releasing  children  from  the  school-room,  horses 
from  the  plough  and  the  workman  from  the  bench,  I  used  to  think  that  there 
was  not  a  sweeter  bell  in  all  Christendom.  But  when,  at  12  o'clock,  the  Angelus 
rang  and  the  large  bell  tolled  three  times,  and  when  I  saw  men  and  women  stop 
in  their  work,  offering  a  silent  prayer,  I  felt  as  if  I  had  heard  a  voice  from  above. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  sad  bell  which  was  rung  every  Friday  at  3  o'clock,  in 
commemoration  of  the  death  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour.  Often  I  wandered  in 
my  childish  mind  to  Calvary,  while  that  bell  rang,  and  viewed  the  uplifted  cross. 
When  the  solemn  death-bell  rang  announcing  the  departure  of  a  soul,  it  was  a 
warning  voice  to  the  living  to  be  prepared  also.  But  among  all  the  bells  there 
was  no  one  so  sweet  as  the  evening  bell.  Poets  have  often  sung  about  it  and 
musicians  were  ever  fond  of  reproducing  it.  Come,  go  with  me  across  the  deep 
blue  sea ;  let  us  visit  a  German  town,  my  native  home,  with  its  old-fashioned 
houses  nestled  as  closely  together  as  if  they  were  unable  to  stand  alone.  The 
streets  are  narrow  and  crooked,  the  quaint  old  chimneys  are  inhabited  by  storks, 
while  around  the  eaves  there  are  rows  of  swallows'  nests,  for  the  German  deems 
it  a  blessing  to  have  birds  make  their  dwelling  under  his  roof.  Hear  the  merry 
laughter  of  the  children  playing  around  the  town-house ;  see,  yonder  comes  a 
weary  wanderer  looking  for  an  inn  where  he  may  find  rest  and  shelter  for  the 
coming  night.  Farmers  are  now  driving  the  cattle  and  horses  to  the  creek,  maid- 
ens come  to  the  wells  for  water,  and  their  merry  laughter  mingles  strangely  with 
the  sound  of  the  blacksmiths'  anvils.  Gently  the  curling  smoke  arises  from  chim- 
neys, indicating  that  thrifty  housewives  are  getting  the  evening  meal  ready.  The 
laborers  are  coming  home  from  the  fields,  the  sun  sinks  slowly  in  the  west,  when 
suddenly  there  is  heard  the  sweet  evening  bell  calling  weary  laborers  to  rest  and 
to  prayer.  All  villagers  now  offer  their  devotions  ;  the  children  cease  playing, 


MUSIC   OP  NATURE.  55 

the  merry  sound  of  the  anvil  is  hushed,  people  uncover  their  heads,  old  men  and 
women  reverently  bow  their  heads,  communicating  silently  with  Him  whom  they 
must  soon  meet  in  judgment.  When  thinking  of  the  sweet  evening  bells,  I  say 
God  bless  the  bells.  What  can  be  sweeter  than  at  eventide  to  hear  the  distant 
chimes  as  the  sound  comes  over  the  quiet  stream.  Ah,  they  are  like  sweet 
dreams,  telling  the  aged  of  youth  that  is  past  and  fondly  picturing  to  youth  the 
future  that  awaits  him.  Much  more  might  be  said  concerning  the  significance 
of  the  bell  in  European  village  life,  but  this  must  suffice.  While  I  have  for- 
gotten the  names  and  faces  of  many  of  those  that  were  young  with  me,  while 
early  impressions  have  been  weakened  by  a  long  absence  from  home,  I  can  still 
recall  the  sound  of  the  old  church-bells.  Whether  I  sit  on  the  portico  on  a 
summer  evening,  or  watch  a  cozy  fire  in  winter,  if  I  but  will,  I  can  hear  those 
sweet  bells  as  they  ring  and  ring  and  ring,  until  their  magic  sounds  sweep  over 
thousands  of  miles  and  reach  the  ear  of  the  far-off  wanderer.  Oh,  ye  bells ;  oh, 
ye  sweet-sounding  bells !  Your  never-dying  voices  speak  to  me  of  youth  and 
home.  You  are  indeed  true  and  faithful  friends.  As  Enoch  Arden,  when  he 
came  to  the  cold  and  chilly  waters  of  death,  beheld  a  vessel  in  his  vision,  and  cried 
aloud,  "  A  sail,  a  sail,  /  am  saved,"  and  so  fell  back  and  spoke  no  more,  so  I 
often  dream  that  when  I  shall  come  to  the  brink  of  the  river  I  shall  hear  the 
bells,  the  bells  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  crying  out  in  rapture,  "  Ttie  bells, 
the  bells,  the  sweet  bells  of  heaven  are  ringing  for  me,"  I  shah1  fall  back  into  the 
arms  of  Him  who  alone  is  mighty  to  save. 

As  there  are  sentiments  which  the  poet  never  expressed,  as  there  are  scenes  and 
sights  as  well  as  pictures  of  the  imagination  which  no  brush  has  as  yet  spread 
upon  canvas,  so  there  are  sounds  in  nature  that  arouse  and  convey  feelings  which, 
in  a  certain  sense,  may  be  called  music,  but  which  have  never  been  and  never  can 
be  written  in  the  language  of  art.  Doubtless  all  of  you  have  fond  recollections 
of  home  and  the  scenes  of  childhood.  Ah  !  how  eagerly  the  mind  turns  home- 
ward, especially  when  for  the  first  time  away.  How  strong  is  the  desire  to  see 
once  more  a  father's  face  and  to  feel  again  the  touch  of  a  mother's  lips.  What  a 
powerful  feeling  is  this  longing.for  home.  Oh,  memory  is  a  great  artist !  It  draws 
the  outlines  of  the  loved  faces  and  the  scenes  around  the  hallowed  spot  in  the  most 
enchanting  manner.  What  once  seemed  scarcely  worthy  of  our  notice  now  becomes 
an  object  of  our  affections.  Oh  how  great  is  the  joy  and  how  sweet  is  the  hour, 
when  returning  home  after  a  long  absence  !  Alas,  this  joy  was  never  to  be  mine. 
Many  years  ago  I  left  my  German  home,  fondly  hoping  that  some  day  I  might 
return  to  meet  the  loved  ones  again.  Often  I  hungered  for  this  pleasure,  and  a 
thousand  times  I  pictured  to  myself  a  happy  meeting.  Alas,  it  was  not  to  be  so. 
I  often  wandered  over  the  sea ;  yes,  I  even  felt  the  pressure  of  my  father's  hand 
and  heard  niy  mother's  voice.  Alas !  'twas  all  a  vision — a  mere  dream. 

It  is  but  natural  that  such  feelings  should  arise  when  contemplating  home  and 
childhood.  There  are,  however,  other  periods  in  life  which  make  deep  impressions, 
periods  rich  in  pleasures  never  to  be  forgotten.  I  refer  to  the  time  when  love's 
impulse  first  steals  over  our  hearts,  painting  a  world  anew  with  colors  too  beautiful 
to  describe.  These  are  the  times  when  we  form  new  home-ties,  and  when  we  for 
a  time  forget  even  the  places  that  first  gave  us  shelter.  The  days  of  young  love 
are  sweet  to  the  memory  ;  they  shed  a  lustre  over  everything  connected  with  them ; 


56  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

they  are  days  worthy  of  being  placed  by  the  side  of  our  childhood's  days  on 
memory's  page.  Oh,  blessed  is  the  heart  that  has  loved,  and  twice  blessed  is  the 
heart  that  now  loves.  The  joys  of  love  are  connected  with  a  thousand  objects 
and  incidents,  and  time  can  never  efface  them  from  recollection.  They  are  graven 
deeply  upon  the  tablets  of  memory,  and  when  we,  perchance,  walk  alone  or 
sit  in  the  twilight  hour  looking  upon  the  golden  lines  in  the  West,  then,  as  if 
by  magic,  rises  that  tablet,  and  we  read  again  the  loved  names  and  trace  once 
more  the  outlines  of  those  joyous  scenes  long  since  passed  away.  To  visit  after 
many  years  of  absence  the  places  in  which  we  first  loved,  where  we  whiled  away 
our  time  strolling  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  where  we  had  many  cozy  chats  on 
the  old  rustic  porch,  is  almost  equal  to  a  visit  to  the  parental  roof. 

This  pleasure  I  enjoyed  a  few  years  ago,  when  I  visited  Pennsylvania.  The 
friend  who  promised  to  meet  me  being  a  physician,  was  unexpectedly  called  away, 
and  it  happened  that  I  had  the  better  part  of  a  warm  summer  afternoon  to 
myself.  I  decided  at  once  to  visit  the  old  church  on  the  hill,  where  I  used  to 
play  the  organ,  and  where  I  took  upon  myself  the  marriage  vow.  Silence  reigned 
over  all  that  broad  sweep  of  country,  and  a  solemn  feeling  took  possession  of  me 
as  I  stepped  into  the  old  graveyard.  Turning  toward  the  village  nestling  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  I  eagerly  looked  for  the  house  of  this  or  that  friend,  but  in  look- 
ing around  upon  the  graves  I  was  also  reminded  of  the  fact  that  many  of  these 
dear  friends  had  departed  from  this  life  and  were  now  resting  in  God's  acre.  To 
my  right  and  left  were  the  graves  of  those  who,  once  young  and  joyful,  graced 
a  merry  circle  of  friends.  In  my  imagination  I  again  heard  the  sound  of  the  old 
church-bell  that  used  to  call  me  to  that  hill  to  worship  God.  Again  I  heard  the 
choir  chant,  and  the  tones  of  the  little  organ  I  used  to  play  rang  loudly  in  my 
ears.  My  heart  throbbed  wildly  as  I  recounted  the  many  changes  that  had  since 
then  taken  place.  Sadly  I  seated  myself  under  a  pine  tree,  and  while  there  musing 
I  heard  the  hum  of  many  insects,  and  a  sad,  low  breeze  played  through  the  pines 
above  me.  Was  there  music  in  it  ?  yes  it  was  music ;  music  which  I  shall  never 
forget,  music  that  can  never  be  written  down,  music  inexpressibly  sweet,  music 
that  touches  the  heart  to  its  deepest  depths.  I  know  not  how  long  I  sat  there, 
but  I  know  that  the  reveries  of  the  hour  were  sweet.  Raising  my  head,  my  eyes 
naturally  fell  upon  that  building  where  I  formerly  lived,  and  where  I  spent  so 
many  happy  years  ;  where  I  first  met  her  who  since  has  traveled  with  me  on  the 
journey  of  life.  With  a  sigh  I  said  farewell  to  the  loved  friends  sleeping  their 
last  sleep,  and  started  to  visit  the  old  house  so  hallowed  in  my  memory.  As  I 
opened  the  gate  the  sound  of  the  old  latch  almost  paralyzed  me.  Involuntarily 
I  stood  and  listened — as  if  I  had  heard  the  voice  of  one  of  the  friends  long  since 
departed.  Strange  recollections  crowded  upon  my  heart  as  it  responded  to  that 
familiar  click.  How  I  used  to  love  to  hear  it  when  friends  called,  but  especially 
when  returning  home  after  a  long  absence.  Sweet  gate,  sweet  sound,  sweet 
memory,  sweet  days  of  love  1  Years  had  passed,  and  lo  !  I  stood  with  a  quiv- 
ering heart  and  a  trembling  hand  by  the  side  of  that  old  gate.  Was  there  music 
in  that  click?  Yes,  there  was  a  power  in  that  sound,  that,  like  music,  suddenly 
opened  the  sluices  of  memory — those  sluices  that  had  long  been  closed — and 
feelings  and  thoughts  like  a  wild  stream  rushed  upon  me. 
But  on  I  went,  and  as  I  walked  over  the  old  and  well-worn  flagstones  my  steps 


MUSIC  OP  NATURE.  57 

resounded  as  if  I  were  walking  in  a  vault,  with  the  dear  ones  resting  to  the  right 
and  left,  and  when  I  reached  the  door  with  its  time-worn  brass  knocker,  I  scarcely 
knew  how  I  had  come  there.  The  sound  of  that  old  knocker  seemed  to  come 
out  of  the  grave,  it  seemed  to  say,  "  be  ready,  for  soon  you,  too,  will  have  to 
depart  to  meet  your  many  friends."  The  tolling  of  a  bell  when  they  carry  a 
friend  to  the  grave  was  not  half  so  solemn  as  was  the  sound  of  that  knocker.  It 
was  well  that  no  one  came,  for  I  could  not  have  said  a  word,  because  my  heart- 
strings vibrated  wildly.  Was  there  music  in  the  old  knocker?  Oh,  yes,  it 
sounded  like  a  funeral  dirge.  And  thus  I  was  again  left  to  my  dreams.  Sadly  I 
reviewed  the  past,  sorrowing  o'er  the  follies  of  youth,  and  tenderly  whispering 
the  names  of  those  who  used  to  sit  with  me  upon  the  old  bench  on  that  rustic 
porch:  The  dark  clouds  which  then  at  times  overcast  my  path  with  threatening 
aspects,  now  had  more  than  a  silver  lining,  and  sadly  I  said :  "  Short-sighted 
mortals  we  are. ' '  Deep,  deep  into  the  heart  goes  the  music  of  nature,  for  it 
takes  us  out  of  our  every-day  life  and  leads  us,  as  it  were,  up  the  mountain 
from  whence  we  may  behold  the  distant  landscape  through  which  the  journey 
has  led  us.  Oh,  how  strong  the  yearning  once  more  to  tread  those  paths  so 
wrought  with  youthful  pleasures,  and  how  stern  and  irrevocable  the  command  to 
pass  on  to  the  end  of  life's  journey.  Our  imagination  may  take  us  there  ;  the 
gale  sweeping  over  the  pleasure-grounds  of  youth  may  fan  our  weary  brow ;  alas, 
it  fails  to  bring  us  the  fragrance  of  the  flowers  as  once  it  did.  As  the  sun  of  the 
Indian  summer  shines  in  vain  upon  the  tree  that  is  fast  losing  its  foliage,  making 
it  glisten  in  untold  beauty  but  failing  to  awaken  new  life,  so  is  the  recollection  of 
youthful  pleasures  to  the  heart  that  has  made  the  larger  portion  of  its  life's  journey. 
Oh,  that  I  were  a  poet,  so  that  I  might  tell  in  fitting  words  what  I  then  felt. 
And  so  I  left  the  little  town  and  said  farewell  to  the  hallowed  spot,  praying  that 
peace  may  ever  reign  there,  that  the  freshest  flowers  may  bloom  and  the  sweetest 
birds  forever  sing  where  I  spent  so  many  happy  days.  A  writer  compares  our 
lives  to  ash-heaps,  where  our  days  lie  consumed  and  where  we  have  buried  many 
unrequited  affections,  many  disappointments  and  sorrows.  Still,  we  fondly  stoop 
from  time  to  tune  over  this  ash-heap,  for  there  we  also  find  many  diamonds, 
jewels  of  friendship  and  happy  hours  which  we  once  enjoyed  in  our  every-day 
life,  and  the  recollection  of  which  is  dear  to  our  weary  hearts.  Though  we  can 
no  longer  wear  these  jewels,  we  may  at  least  feast  our  eyes  upon  their  lustre.  So, 
though  we  can  no  longer  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  youth,  we  may  at  least  recall 
them,  for  were  it  not  for  the  pleasures  of  memory  and  hope  many  poor  hearts 
would  break  and  die. 

A  legend  says  that  when  Adam  and  Eve  were  about  to  be  expelled  from  Para- 
dise, God  pitied  them,  and  to  alleviate  their  sufferings  while  battling  with  life's 
bitter  blasts,  He  gave  them  a  harp  made  of  wood  taken  from  the  tree  of  life, 
ordaining  that  its  sweet  sounds  should  ever  be  a  relief  for  their  sufferings. 
Hence,  it  is  that  all  human  hearts  are  so  tenderly  touched  by  sweet  music's 
power.  And  the  poet  who  listened  spell-bound  to  the  charms  of  song  correctly 
said:  "  Oh,  music,  thou  art  either  a  recollection  of  Paradise  or  a  foretaste  of 
heaven." 

Though  music  like  a  harp  is  not  heard  in  the  realms  of  nature,  yet  there  is 
the  bird  that  sings,  there  is  the  wind  that  sighs  through  the  pines  and  whistles 


58  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

upon  reeds,  there  is  the  wave  that  moans,  the  rivulet  that  laughs,  the  thunder 
that  peals  and  the  ocean  that  roars,  all  of  them  voices  speaking  to  our  hearts  if 
we  will  but  listen.  The  painter  loves  to  reproduce  the  beauties  of  nature,  with 
its  mountains  and  rivers,  the  flowers  and  trees  gorgeously  clothed  in  rich  colors. 
He  delights  to  paint  for  us  the  beautiful  sunset,  when  the  sunbeams  melt  along 
the  silent  horizon  and  when  the  various  colored  strata  of  clouds  seem  to  be  like 
so  many  steps  upon  which  we  may  enter  heaven  itself.  The  sculptor  delights  to 
portray  the  beauties  of  the  human  form,  and,  like  his  brother  artist,  goes  to 
nature  to  school.  The  poet  sings  sweetly  of  the  things  God  made,  putting  a  halo 
around  every  object  in  nature.  Yes,  he  even  weaves  the  voices  of  nature  into 
fairy  tales.  If,  then,  the  painter,  the  sculptor  and  the  poet  delight  in  nature 
and  its  sounds,  why  should  the  musician  not  do  the  same?  I  have  simply  tried 
to  show  you  what  a  musician  hears  in  nature,  and  if  I  played  only  short  tunes 
upon  the  several  stops  of  this  vast  and  mighty  organ  of  nature,  it  was  because 
there  are  too  many  of  them  to  play  more.  If  I  shall  have  induced  any  of  my 
readers  to  give  a  more  willing  ear  to  the  sounds  of  nature,  if  I  shall  have  enabled 
any  one  to  derive  more  pleasure  from  the  beauties  of  nature  and  its  music,  I 
shall  feel  amply  repaid  for  my  labors. 


HEAD  AND  HEART. 


When  speaking  of  head  and  heart  I  mean  yours  and  mine,  not  those  of  a 
select  few.  In  our  intercourse  with  men  we  deal  either  with  their  heads  or  their 
hearts,  generally  with  both  at  the  same  time.  The  fact  that  we  know  too  little 
of  either,  or,  perhaps  our  unwillingness  to  regard  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of 
others,  causes  much  unnecessary  trouble  in  life.  My  subject,  therefore,  is  a 
profitable  one  for  discussion,  and  I  trust  I  may  be  able  to  make  it  equally  inter- 
esting. Pope  has  said,  "The  proper  study  for  mankind  is  man."  If  it  is  useful 
and  necessary  to  study  the  sciences,  it  is  still  more  so  to  study  man,  for  this  is  the 
deepest  of  sciences.  We  look  at  men's  faces  much  as  we  look  at  the  face  of  a 
clock.  From  the  one  we  endeavor  to  read  character,  from  the  other  we  learn  the 
tune.  In  neither  case,  however,  do  we  think  of  the  wonderful  works  that  are 
concealed  behind  these  faces. 

Everything  that  is  noble  and  good  springs  from  the  heads  and  hearts  of  men, 
and  these  are  also  the  sources  from  whence  comes  all  the  wickedness  that  curses 
the  human  family.  Therefore,  I  invite  your  attention  to  some  reflections  upon 
the  relative  influences  of  the  head  and  heart  upon  our  actions. 

The  head  is  the  seat  of  the  thinking  powers.  The  Chinese  claim  this  distinction 
for  the  stomach.  When  speaking  of  a  well  read  man  they  say,  "he  has  eaten 
many  books."  Buffon  has  said — "  The  stomach  is  the  seat  of  thought."  Doubt- 
less the  condition  of  our  stomachs  gives  coloring  to  our  thoughts,  but  from  this 
it  does  not  follow  that  we  think  with  our  digestive  organs.  Man  thinks  with  his 
brain ;  it  takes  cognizance  of  objects,  it  realizes  conditions  and  situations,  it  reasons 
and  concludes.  When  a  man  has  but  little  thinking  power  we  do  not  say  of  him 
that  he  has  a  weak  stomach,  but  rather  that  he  has  a  thick  head.  When  a  man 
displays  great  presence  of  mind  in  the  hour  of  danger  we  do  not  say  that  he  has  a 
cool  stomach,  but  rather  a  cool  head.  When  men  are  angry  we  do  not  say  to  them 
keep  a  cool  stomach,  but  rather  keep  a  cool  head.  If  a  man  is  shrewd 
enough  to  gain  an  advantage  over  his  fellows  we  do  not  say  that  he  has  a  long 
stomach,  but  rather  that  he  has  a  long  head.  In  our  common  parlance,  therefore, 
we  accord  to  the  head  the  thinking  powers. 

The  heart  is  called  the  seat  of  the  emotions,  but  it  cannot  be  regarded  as  such 
in  the  same  sense  as  we  call  the  head  the  seat  of  the  thinking  powers.  The  heart 
is  the  seat  of  our  emotions  only  in  a  symbolic  sense.  The  heart  of  flesh  is  merely 
a  muscular  cavity  through  which  our  blood  flows.  As  all  violent  emotions  affect 
the  flow  of  blood,  these,  naturally  enough,  make  themselves  felt  in  the  heart  of 
flesh,  hence  we  call  it  the  seat  of  our  emotions.  The  emotions  which  quicken  the 
flow  of  the  blood  must,  however,  have  an  origin  somewhere.  Where  do  they 
originate  ?  There  is  within  us  a  power  which  prompts  us  to  action,  which  pro- 

59 


60  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

duces  emotions,  and  this  power  is  the  will  of  man.  This  is  the  greatest  power : 
indeed  the  will  is  man  himself!  It  is  the  will  of  man  that  is  prone  to  evil ;  it  is 
the  will  which  shapes  our  final  destinies.  Despite  the  fact  that  the  will  is  a  most 
dangerous  power,  a  power  which  has  wrought  untold  misery  from  the  time  of 
Adam  down  to  the  present  day,  God  left  it  free ;  to  destroy  or  to  fetter  it  would 
be  equal  to  the  destruction  of  man  as  a  free  agent.  The  will  affects  the  mind,  it 
governs  largely  our  thoughts,  it  is  the  source  of  all  that  is  good  and  evil  within 
us.  The  will  is  responsible  for  our  acts  and  not  the  brain,  for  the  will  gives  col- 
oring to  our  thoughts  and  actions.  It  is  the  will  that  is  corrupt  and  not  the  brain ; 
the  latter  is  only  in  so  far  prone  to  evil,  as  it  yields  to  the  dictates  of  the  will  This 
will  power  produces  desires,  it  prompts  us  to  action,  it  is  the  source  of  our  emo- 
tions, and  it  is  in  reality  what  we  commonly  call  the  heart.  It  is  said  man 
hates,  but  not  without  a  cause,  for  he  simply  wills  to  hate,  and  so  we  love  because 
we  will  to  love.  A  bad  or  a  good  sentiment  must  have  a  bad  or  a  good  cause, 
and  the  will  or  the  heart  is  this  cause.  Commonly  we  speak  of  a  bad  or  a  good 
heart,  but  in  reality  we  mean  a  bad  or  a  good  will.  We  speak  of  kind-hearted 
people,  says  Schopenhauer,  and  we  mean  those  whose  wills  are  favorably  disposed 
toward  mankind.  We  speak  of  hard-hearted  people,  and  we  mean  those  whose 
wills  are  unfavorably  disposed  toward  their  fellows.  A  broken  heart  is  a  broken 
will,  a  human  being  without  those  powerful  desires  that  are  common  to  mankind. 

We  must  control  this  will,  and  this  duty  places  upon  us  a  heavy  and  almost 
frightful  responsibility.  Were  it  not  so  we  would  be  blameless  in  the  midst  of 
our  evil  doings.  Says  a  famous  writer,  "The  head  is  as  the  rudder  of  the  ship, 
while  the  heart  or  the  will  is  the  power  that  propels  it.  Both  rudder  and  sail 
are  needed  in  order  that  a  vessel  may  safely  travel  on  the  waves,  so  a  good  heart 
and  a  clear  head  are  needed  in  order  that  we  may  successfully  pass  through  life. 

In  the  animal  the  instinct  rules  supreme ;  in  the  educated  man  the  will  rules 
supreme.  The  will  is  the  source  of  all  evil,  and,  as  has  been  said,  must  be  gov- 
erned and  directed.  It  is  the  object  of  education  to  so  train  the  mind  that  it 
may  govern  and  guide  the  will,  much  as  a  rider  governs  the  horse.  With  an 
uneducated  man  it  is  difficult  to  reason,  for  his  will  assumes  the  form  of  passion ; 
he  simply  wills  to  have  his  own  way.  With  an  educated  man  we  can  discuss  a 
question,  for  the  brain  acts  as  moderator  of  the  will  or  the  heart.  To  get  a  good 
education,  therefore,  means  not  merely  to  stock  your  mind  with  facts  as  men  fill 
scrap-books  or  pigeon-holes  with  items  of  useful  information ;  nay,  it  means  the 
strengthening  of  the  mind,  so  that  under  all  circumstances  it  may  be  a  safe  guide 
to  the  will,  so  that  it  may  under  all  circumstances  see  the  ways  that  are  wise  and 
prudent. 

Men  differ  in  their  valuation  of  head  and  heart.  The  one  is  preeminently  an 
admirer  of  the  thinking  powers,  and  he  is  a  man  that  must  be  convinced  in  order 
that  he  may  follow  you.  The  other  is  more  an  admirer  of  the  emotional  man, 
and  he  needs  only  to  be  persuaded  to  follow  us  without  much  reasoning.  The 
one  yields  quickest  to  the  head,  the  other  to  the  heart  power.  And  so  men 
choose  their  friends,  the  one  seeking  his  companion  among  thinking  men,  the 
other  among  those  whose  hearts  are  the  stronger  parts  of  their  natures,  and  all  this 
we  do  without  any  forethought  or  previous  consideration.  There  are  those  who 
speak  lightly  of  the  operations  of  a  profound  mind,  proclaiming  thought  to  be 


HEAD  AND  HEART.  61 

cold  and  unfeeling,  while  others  denounce  emotional  natures  as  weak  or  feminine. 
Doubtless,  thought  is  cold,  but  if  it  is  as  cold  as  ice  it  is  also  as  clear  as  ice.  The 
emotions  are  warm  but  they  are  often  unreliable,  they  need  to  be  guided  and 
checked ;  therefore  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  heart  or  the  will  alone  can 
impart  life-producing  power  to  thought.  All  men  admire  great  minds,  but  there 
are  those  who  cherish  a  sort  of  an  enmity  against  men  of  superior  brain  power. 
They  prefer  the  stupid  fellow  who  stands  beneath  them,  to  the  scholar  who  out- 
ranks them.  In  such  a  case  the  envious  heart  and  not  the  brain  is  to  blame. 
The  noble  heart  would  rather  associate  with  its  superiors  ;  the  low  and  vulgar 
would  rather  be  leaders  among  ignoramuses  than  followers  among  the  wise.  The 
heart  is  greater  than  the  head.  The  latter  becomes  feeble  with  old  age,  and 
judgment  is  no  longer  reliable  when  men  are  in  their  dotage.  According  to  a 
certain  writer,  the  mind  of  man  is  not  immortal,  the  will,  however,  is.  The 
heart  or  the  will  is  causeless,  it  operates  at  pleasure  and  remains  active  till  the 
end  of  life,  hence,  we  speak  of  the  "  ruling  passion  strong  in  death."  God  does 
not  ask  for  our  minds,  but  he  constantly  demands  our  hearts.  He  says,  give  me 
thine  heart,  which  means,  give  me  thy  will-power,  let  thy  will  be  in  accord  with 
mine.  That  we  attach  more  importance  to  the  heart  than  to  the  head  is  plain 
from  the  fact  that  we  pardon  an  error  of  the  head  quicker  than  an  error  of  the 
heart.  We  would  rather  be  suspected  of  stupidity  than  of  dishonesty.  We 
would  rather  be  accused  of  an  error  of  the  head  than  of  an  error  of  the  heart, 
for  one  ounce  of  the  heart's  intentions  outweighs  a  whole  pound  of  the  head's 
action.  Seneca"  said  that  no  action  could  be  blameless  unless  the  will  is  blame- 
less, for  the  will  or  the  heart  prompts  us  to  action.  We  forgive  a  man  more 
readily  for  suspecting  us  of  stupidity  than  of  wrong  intentions,  though  in  either 
case  we  are  lowered  in  the  human  standard.  The  reason  we  resent  the  one  more 
quickly  than  the  other  is,  that  a  charge  of  ignorance  does  not  affect  our  char- 
acter and  standing  as  much  as  a  charge  of  badness  of  heart.  If  a  man  lacks 
education  or  talents,  he  simply  lacks  that  which,  under  more  favorable  circum- 
stances, he  might  have  attained,  but  if  he  is  bad  he  falls  below  that  standard  of 
morality  which  all  men  should  reach.  An  uneducated  but  a  kind-hearted  man  we 
may  take  to  our  hearts,  but  no  one  loves  an  educated  scamp  or  deceiver. 

The  heart  or  will  prompts  us  to  action,  and  in  this  it  is  often  so  powerful,  quick 
and  sly  that  the  mind  is  led  captive  before  it  has  time  to  consider,  before  it  can 
fulfill  its  mission  of  judgment.  The  mind  loves  to  be  idle  at  times,  but  the  heart 
is  always  active.  The  idle  mind  is  easiest  led  into  evil  deeds,  hence  the  saying, 
Satan  finds  some  mischief  still  for  idle  hands  to  do.  The  busy,  active  brain  that 
battles  with  the  world,  that  is  engaged  in  study  or  scientific  research,  is  not  so 
easily  overcome  by  the  ever-active  heart  in  its  evil  promptings  and  sly  tempta- 
tions. The  head  has  not  the  tune  to  listen  to  the  heart. 

Little  children  never  think  deeply,  their  attention  can,  therefore,  easily  be 
diverted  from  one  object  to  another,  yet  their  wills  are  always  active.  If  the 
heart  or  the  will  becomes  a  great  factor,  if  the  child  wills  a  thing  decidedly,  we 
fail  to  divert  its  mind.  The  heart  controls  the  head.  Of  such  a  child  we  say  it 
is  self-willed.  The  dullest  intellect  is  set  to  work  by  the  will,  our  wants  and 
necessities  drive  us  on,  they  cause  us  to  set  our  wits  to  work,  hence,  the  familiar 
saying,  that  necessity  is  the  mother  of  invention.  The  superiority  of  the  heart 


62  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

power  over  that  of  the  head  may  also  be  seen  from  the  fact  that  some  men's 
appeals  fall  coldly  upon  people's  ears.  This  is  owing  to  the  fact  that  the 
speech  of  the  one  lacks  emotional  power  while  that  of  the  other  does  not.  The 
fiery  heart  of  some  speakers  makes  itself  felt  in  word,  look  and  action,  and  the 
hearts  of  the  audience  respond  to  his  own.  It  is  this  heart-power  that  men  use 
to  sway  the  masses  to  action.  If  it  is  used  for  the  right  it  becomes  a  blessing, 
if  for  the  purpose  of  dethroning  reason,  or  for  the  purpose  of  beclouding  judg- 
ment, it  is  a  curse.  It  is  the  heart  power  that  makes  men  leaders  of  others, 
hence,  when  sending  men  on  missions  of  persuasion  we  choose  men  of  emotional 
powers. 

We  imagine  that  the  head  conceives  projects,  but  it  is  generally  the  heart  that 
does  so.  When  the  heart  decides  to  do  a  thing  it  sets  the  mind  to  work,  compel- 
ling it  to  devise  plans  for  the  execution  of  the  new  scheme.  The  good  old  pro- 
verb says,  "Where  there  is  a  will  there  is  a  way. "  When  the  mind  is  searching 
out  the  way,  we  are  in  a  brown  study,  we  are  cogitating  over  a  thing.  When 
another  man's  heart  proposes  something  aiming  to  set  our  heart  to  action,  we 
say,  ' '  Let  me  sleep  over  it, ' '  that  is,  give  my  mind  time  to  consider.  He  who  fails 
to  consult  his  mind  before  acting,  is  hasty  and  inconsiderate.  To  enable  the  mind 
to  give  the  heart  good  advice  is  the  object  of  education.  The  heart  often  leads 
men  into  trouble  by  its  strong  promptings,  and,  when  man  finds  himself  in  a 
difficulty,  having  failed  to  think  before  he  acted,  we  say,  "  He  has  put  his  foot  into 
it."  If  a  man  thus  finds  himself  in  a  snare,  the  cowardly  heart  is  apt  to  retreat, 
it  surrenders  control,  and  appeals  to  the  mind  to  find  a  way  out  of  the  difficulty. 
If  the  mind  raises  its  warning  voice  against  the  heart's  foolish  projects  and 
desires,  there  often  follows  a  bitter  combat  between  head  and  heart.  The  head 
counsels  one  thing  and  the  heart  desires  another.  When  in  this  condition  we  say 
we  are  undecided,  and  in  order  that  we  may  arrive  at  some  conclusion  we  seek 
the  counsel  of  a  friend  to  sit  in  judgment  over  our  heart's  project.  We  rarely 
ever  appeal  to  another's  heart  in  such  cases,  for  the  heart  usually  is  full  of 
motives,  it  is  apt  to  give  advice  selfishly.  The  mind  alone  is  unbiased.  The 
heart  generally  prefers  that  advice  which  is  favorable  to  its  own  projects,  and  it  is 
apt  to  call  him  a  fool  who  counsels  the  contrary.  'Tis  not  always  easy  to  give 
advice,  but,  as  a  rule,  it  is  easier  given  than  followed.  Swift  says,  "  No  man  will 
take  counsel,  but  every  man  will  take  money ;  therefore,  money  is  better  than 
counsel.  There  is  a  class  of  persons  whose  minds  are  always  made  up.  We  had 
better  say  that  their  wills  are  always  made  up.  This  may  show  superiority  of 
mind  and  it  may  not.  It  more  generally  displays  a  hasty  and  a  dogged  will. 
' '  The  heart  of  a  hasty  and  self-willed  man, ' '  says  Schopenhauer, ' '  is  like  a  runaway 
horse  that  takes  the  bit  between  its  teeth  and  starts  off  without  knowing  whither 
it  goes.  Usually  it  runs  on  until  injury  is  done  to  self  or  others."  When  the 
heart  is  stubborn,  and,  like  a  runaway  horse,  takes  the  bit  between  its  teeth, 
the  head  or  reason  can  do  no  more  than  hold  to  the  saddle,  no  matter  how  good 
a  rider  it  has  hitherto  been.  Men  who  are  unyielding  to  reason  are  called  head- 
strong, but  it  is  more  proper  to  call  them  self-willed,  for  it  is  the  heart  that  is 
stubborn,  not  so  much  the  mind.  Try  to  convince  a  stubborn  man  and  all  your 
arguments  will  fail,  not  because  they  are  not  good,  but  because  his  will,  his  heart 
is  not  ready  to  surrender.  Says  the  good  old  proverb,  "  Convince  a  man  against 


TTF.An  AND   HEART.  63 

his  will  and  he  is  of  the  same  opinion  still."  It  is  simply  against  human  nature 
to  curb  the  will  and  to  give  up,  hence,  men  will  stand  on  the  most  untenable 
ground  and  stubbornly  hold  fast  to  their  expressed  opinions.  Stubbornness  is  not 
firmness,  though  many  mistake  the  one  for  the  other.  The  firm  man  stands  upon 
a  principle  because  it  is  true  and  correct ;  the  stubborn  man  stands  upon  his  own 
opinion  and  holds  to  it  simply  because  it  is  his  own  opinion,  no  matter  whether  it 
is  true  or  not.  The  firm  man  is  worthy  of  our  admiration,  but  the  stubborn  man 
deserves  our  contempt  and  pity.  'Tis  no  shame  to  give  up,  'tis  no  disgrace  to 
acknowledge  that  we  were  in  the  wrong,  but  it  is  weakness  to  adhere  to  a  wrong 
opinion  knowing  it  to  be  such.  Some  people  are  so  conceited  that  they  deem 
themselves  always  in  the  right.  They  are  your  dogmatic,  arrogant  men,  who  are 
ever  ready  to  set  up  their  own  wills  as  laws  for  others.  These  are  the  bigots,  a 
few  of  whom  are  still  running  at  large  in  this  world. 

I  have  said  that  the  heart  is  sly.  Let  me  add  that  it  is  often  so  deceitful  that 
it  is  difficult  for  the  mind  to  find  out  the  first  cause  for  action.  The  old  saying 
is — "  The  truth  lies  at  the  bottom  of  a  well,"  so  our  motives  for  action  lie  at  the 
bottom  of  the  heart,  and  it  is  terribly  deep.  Out  of  this  depth  arise  promptings 
that  cause  us  to  blush,  and  so  indistinct  at  times  are  these  motives,  so  difficult  are 
they  to  discover,  that  people  often  say  they  cannot  understand  their  own  feelings. 
Is  not  the  mind  prompted  at  times  to  actions,  while  the  heart  tries  its  best  to  hide 
the  true  motives  ?  The  heart  is  not  only  a  sly,  but  also  a  hasty  actor.  Like 
children,  we  come  quickly  to  conclusions,  because  it  is  easier  for  us  to  do  what 
we  wish  to  do  than  what  we  are  told  to  do.  Children  often  do  directly  the 
opposite  of  what  they  are  commanded  to  do,  simply  because  they  would  rather 
follow  their  hearts'  desires  than  your  head's  counsel  and  law.  When  taken  to 
account  for  disobedience  they  give  it  as  their  excuse,  that  they  forgot ;  thus  you 
will  notice  that  they  accuse  the  head  and  exonerate  the  heart.  In  the  one  case 
they  would  have  been  guilty  of  willful  disobedience,  while  in  the  other  it  was 
mere  thoughtlessness.  It  is  a  question  worth  asking,  how  it  comes  that  children, 
who  know  little  or  nothing  of  the  operations  of  either  head  or  heart,  make  such 
a  fine  distinction  when  excusing  themselves  for  not  having  done  what  they  were 
told  to  do.  Tell  a  boy  to  saw  some  wood  or  to  pull  weeds  on  a  hot  summer  day, 
or  order  him  to  do  some  other  unpleasant  labor,  and  your  command  is  soon  for- 
gotten, or  the  work,  if  done  at  all,  is  but  poorly  executed,  and  that  simply  because 
your  command  was  in  opposition  to  the  boy's  will — because  his  heart  was  not  in  his 
work.  But  promise  this  boy  a  dime  or  a  circus  ticket,  and  he  will  remember  your 
word,  simply  because  he  desires — his  heart  wishes  to  possess — what  you  have 
promised  him.  What  he  wills — what  his  heart  desires — he  has  indelibly  written 
on  memory's  page ;  what  he  does  not  wish  to  do  he  either  wrote  so  faintly  that  it 
was  easily  erased,  or  perchance  he  never  wrote  it  there  at  all. 

Youth,  as  a  rule,  yields  preeminently  to  the  heart  power,  hence  it  often  hates 
and  loves  without  cause,  and  its  emotions  are  easily  swayed  ;  youthful  love  is 
quickly  turned  into  youthful  hatred.  Hence  it  is  that  youth  is  also  often  stub- 
born, conceited,  and  easily  roused  to  passion.  As  youth  lacks  the  cooler  reasoning 
of  older  people,  it  is  quick  to  judge  and  quick  to  act.  Hence  it  is  that  boys  come 
so  easily  to  blows.  Youth  readily  attempts  that  from  which  older  men  shrink 
with  fear,  for  the  riper  judgment  of  advanced  years  tells  them  that  failure  is  a 


64  MUSIC  AND   CULTURE. 

possibility.  "We  learn  that  the  heart  of  youth  generally  has  accomplished  the 
great  deeds  recorded  on  history's  page.  Youth  reasons  but  little,  but  it  feels 
intensely,  and  acts  both  quickly  and  inconsiderately.  With  older  men  the  oppo- 
site is  the  case.  So  common  is  it  for  youth  to  act  without  forethought  that  a 
calculating  and  prudent  boy  attracts  our  attention,  and  we  say  of  him,  that  he  has 
an  "  old  head  on  him. " 

Impulsive  youth,  with  its  energetic  will,  is  ever  ready  for  combat,  for  criticisms, 
for  daring  speculations,  but  when  riper  years  come  men  do  not  trust  themselves 
so  freely.  Said  a  farmer — "When  I  was  twenty-five  years  of  age  I  felt  that  I 
needed  no  man's  advice.  It  never  occurred  to  me  to  ask  my  father  what  he 
thought  of  my  enterprises.  When  I  was  thirty  years  old  I  would  sometimes  ask 
Father,  just  to  see  whether  he  would  approve  of  my  ideas.  At  the  age  of  thirty- 
five  I  was  in  the  habit  of  asking  my  father's  advice,  while  at  the  age  of  forty  I 
never  undertook  anything  without  first  seeking  counsel."  What  mistakes  the 
farmer  might  have  avoided  had  he  done  at  twenty-five  what  he  finally  did  at 
forty. 

That  the  heart  rules  the  intellect  is  plain  from  the  fact,  that  when  a  friend  is 
in  trouble  we  tell  him  to  drive  unpleasant  thoughts  out  of  his  mind.  The  question 
now  is,  who  is  to  drive  the  unpleasant  thoughts  out  ?  When  we  change  the  cur- 
rent of  our  thoughts  we  do  so  in  obedience  to  the  will-power,  and  not  so  much 
through  the  action  of  the  mind  itself.  Luther  said — "I  can  no  more  prevent 
thoughts  from  arising  in  my  mind  than  I  can  prevent  birds  from  flying  over  my 
head ;  but  I  need  not  allow  them  to  make  their  nests  in  my  hair." 

Great  minds  we  admire,  but  great  and  noble  hearts  we  love.  Great  intellects 
and  powerful  hearts  do  not  always  go  together ;  they  are  not  often  found  united 
in  one  person.  It  is  always  unsafe  to  judge  of  the  head  from  the  heart,  and  vice 
versa.  Stupidity  does  not  presuppose  vice,  nor  is  great  learning  a  sure  indication 
of  virtue.  We  all  love  to  be  associated  with  kind-hearted  people,  but,  says  a 
writer,  while  we  admire  men  and  women  of  strong  minds  and  powerful  wills,  we 
prefer  to  look  at  them  as  we  look  at  lions  and  tigers  in  a  menagerie  ;  none  of  us 
would  like  to  be  locked  up  with  them.  Great  hearts  make  great  leaders  of  men ; 
great  minds  are  the  thinkers,  the  revolutionizers  of  the  social  and  political  affairs 
of  the  human  family.  They  are  the  men  who  see  what  the  world  really  is,  while 
heart-people  usually  see  it  through  the  lens  of  their  emotions. 

The  masses  are  easiest  moved  by  the  heart,  for  men  usually  like  persuasion 
better  than  conviction,  but  conviction  in  the  end  is  always  more  enduring  in  its 
effects. 

There  are  found  everywhere  good-hearted  people  who  lack  culture.  They  are 
as  rough  diamonds,  which,  if  they  were  cut  (that  is — educated)  and  set  in  the 
surroundings  of  refinement  would  be  more  useful  citizens ;  they  would  enjoy  life 
more. 

Man's  emotions  often  are  the  source  of  his  troubles.  Imagine  two  men  con- 
versing on  politics  or  religion,  or  perhaps  they  are  arguing  a  question  of  property 
right.  As  long  as  the  head  rules,  the  parties  are  calm  and  dignified  in  their  dis- 
cussion, for  the  mind  acts  as  a  moderator — the  mind  is  chairman.  How  appro- 
priate the  use  of  this  word  moderator,  when  applied  to  presiding  officers.  But 
watch  these  men  when  the  heart  begins  to  take  part  in  the  discussion.  Notice 


HEAD  AND  HEART.  65 

Low  the  voice  changes,  see  the  flushed  cheeks,  observe  the  increasing  state  of 
irritation  !  Unless  the  two  will  soon  part  there  is  danger  of  hearing  bitter  words. 
When  two  men  discuss  politics  at  ordinary  times  they  can  do  so  with  calmness, 
but  during  a  hot  campaign  the  best  of  friends  sometimes  fall  out,  and  that  because 
the  heart  takes  part  iu  the  discussion,  while  at  ordinary  times  it  does  not.  When 
arguing  in  the  court-room,  the  lawyer  whose  mind  rules  supreme  usually  keeps 
calm,  but  the  advocate  whose  heart  is  a  powerful  factor  in  the  case  becomes 
easily  excited  and  even  angry.  Then  it  is  that  his  adversaries  taunt  him  by 
saying,  keep  your  head  cool ;  don't  lose  your  balance.  In  a  well  educated  man 
head  and  heart  are  equally  trained ;  they  are  balancing  each  other  like  the  two 
sides  of  the  scales.  If  the  heart  swells  up  with  pride  or  becomes  turbulent  with 
anger  it  outweighs  the  head,  and  thus  it  is  correct  to  say  of  such  a  man,  that  he 
has  lost  his  balance.  There  are  men  who  purposely  make  others  angry,  for  then 
men's  tongues  go  off  like  guns  that  are  half-cocked.  When  in  anger  reason  loses 
its  control,  and  men  then  reveal  secrets  which  hi  calmer  moments  they  never 
would  divulge. 

So  skillful  lawyers  sometimes  endeavor  to  arouse  the'anger  of  their  adversaries 
or  of  troublesome  witnesses,  and  that  for  no  less  reason  than  to  weaken  their 
judgment  and  to  cause  them  to  say  that  which  might  injure  their  cases.  On  the 
other  hand,  many  lawyers  pretend  to  become  excited,  in  order  to  make  their  clients 
believe  that  their  hearts  are  deeply  engaged  in  their  cases.  Ministers,  too,  often 
become  unduly  excited  while  preaching  the  gospel  of  peace  and  love ;  their  hearts 
run  away  with  their  heads.  Indeed,  I  have  heard  a  certain  great  divine  say  that 
when  he  was  least  prepared  for  his  sermon  he  generally  became  most  excited  and 
spoke  loudest  When  man  thus  yields  to  his  emotions  and  allows  them  to  run 
away,  the  mind  becomes  clouded  like  muddy  water,  or,  to  use  another  illustration, 
head  and  heart  are  like  a  ship  in  a  dense  fog,  there  is  no  telling  when  or  where 
they  may  collide  one  with  the  other. 

Thus  we  see  that  the  reasoning  powers,  through  education  become,  as  it  were, 
a  lever  that  keeps  the  heart's  passions  in  their  proper  channel.  But  if  this  lever 
breaks,  if  the  passions  leave  their  bounds,  what  destruction  follows  !  Then  men 
commit  foul  deeds.  As  the  muddy  waters  of  a  flood  leave  their  marks  upon  the 
inundated  land,  so  the  frequent  outbursts  of  the  passions  leave  their  stains  upon 
the  human  mind  and  character.  If  the  passions  of  a  whole  community  break 
through  the  levee  of  reason  and  law  we  have  the  mob,  the  deeds  of  which  are 
unaccountable.  Then  men  resort  to  lynch  law,  and  commit  violence  against  those 
who  are  suspected  of  wrong  doing.  Thus  we  see  that  lynch  law  yields  to  the 
heart  and  its  passions,  while  in  the  court-room  reason  alone  prevails,  or  ought  to 
prevail.  In  a  university  it  sometimes  happens  that  some  of  the  students  deem 
themselves  wronged  by  a  rule  which,  in  their  estimation,  has  a  tinge  of  injustice. 
Straightway  a  wave  of  excitement  and  passion  rolls  over  the  school,  reason  is 
clouded,  while  only  a  few  keep  their  heads  clear.  But  strange  to  say,  those  few, 
who  take  in  the  real  condition  of  things,  are  always  denounced  as  the  weak-kneed 
ones. 

A  prejudiced  heart  beclouds  the  mind,  so  that  it  fails  to  see  things  in  their  true 
light.  The  heart  has  bribed  the  head,  and  the  head  argues  falsely  in  order  to 
please  the  heart.  Thus  the  prejudiced  heart  regards'that  as  ugly  which  in  reality 
5 


66  MUSIC  AND   CULTURE. 

is  pretty ;  it  pronounces  that  to  be  mean  which  is  good.  The  selfish  heart,  too, 
beclouds  the  mind.  Selfishness  is  like  a  thick  veil  which  prevents  the  mind  from 
looking  beyond  its  own  interests.  There  are  men  who  can  see  nothing  beyond 
their  noses,  except  it  be  a  a  shining  dollar  or  a  promissory  note.  The  selfish 
heart  is  a  mean  heart,  but  the  meanest  of  all  hearts  is  the  malicious  heart, 
the  one  that  rejoices  over  the  misery  of  others.  It  is  sad  to  think  that  a  human 
heart  can  shrivel  up  to  such  a  degree  that  all  sympathy  is  obliterated.  Public 
judgment  is  unreliable  in  matters  of  art  and  learning,  but  in  matters  of  morality 
it  hardly  ever  goes  far  astray.  Thus  the  selfish  man  is  quickly  known  and  sincerely 
despised.  The  suspicious  and  jealous  heart  is  a  petty  little  heart.  Such  a  heart 
is  never  at  rest,  it  is  its  own  torment. 

How  many  hearts  are  guilty  of  pride  !  It  is  the  heart  first  that  is  guilty  of  this 
weakness,  and  when  the  heart  of  a  man  is  thoroughly  filled  with  it  then  it  affects 
the  head,  and  we  say  that  pride  has  turned  his  head  ;  that  is,  it  has  dethroned 
reason.  Oh,  what  is  there  in  this  life  to  make  man  proud?  Is  it  good  looks?  If 
so,  how  long  will  these  endure?  Are  we  proud  of  learning?  Remember  that  no 
matter  how  far  we  advance  upon  the  road  of  knowledge,  there  has,  after  all,  been 
but  little  accomplished,  and  much  remains  to  be  done.  No  matter  how  great  we 
may  be,  there  are  others  who  are  our  equals  and  superiors.  Are  we  proud  of 
wealth  ?  How  foolish !  Have  not  gamblers,  thieves,  and  dishonest  speculators 
great  possessions  also?  Are  you  proud  of  social  standing?  Remember,  the  grave 
levels  all,  and  even  here  on  earth  many  an  humble  man  who  is  socially  not  much 
regarded,  weighs  more  in  the  scale  of  public  opinion  than  you  with  all  your  proud, 
high  social  standing  and  family  connections.  Pride  may  be  a  virtue — usually  it 
is  a  vice.  Keep  it  out  of  the  heart.  When  sending  a  man  on  an  important 
errand  we  say,  try  to  get  on  the  right  side  of  him  whom  you  are  to  see — that  is, 
try  and  reach  his  heart ;  seek  to  obtain  control  over  his  will.  This  leads  men  to 
use  flattery,  a  dish  of  which  the  average  heart  is  exceedingly  fond.  The  flatterer 
is  a  deceiver ;  his  potion  is  designed  to  destroy  the  action  of  the  mind  ;  it  intoxi- 
cates the  will.  No  honest  man  stoops  to  flattery. 

People  with  strong  emotional  natures  usually  are  very  impulsive  ;  people  with 
great  brain  power  often  are  freezingly  cold.  Despite  their  excitability  we  would 
rather  trust  heart  people,  for  they  exhibit  their  natures,  we  can  read  their  dis- 
positions, while  it  is  very  difficult  to  read  the  character  of  purely  brain  people. 
The  heart  usually  makes  the  deepest  impression  upon  our  faces,  and  the  Ger- 
mans are  correct  when  they  say  that  in  the  eye  lies  the  heart.  I  would  at  any 
time  trust  facial  expression  as  a  key  to  character  more  than  language.  Words 
are  often  used  as  a  means  of  deception,  and  if  but  sparingly  used  we  have  no 
means  of  knowing  whether  such  people  may  be  trusted. 

This  corruption  of  the  human  heart  is  no  invention  of  mine.  Ever  since  philoso- 
phers have  studied  man  has  the  proneness  of  the  human  heart  to  evil  attracted 
attention ;  nay,  more,  many  of  them  have  diligently  sought  for  a  remedy.  Men 
have  earnestly  endeavored  to  subdue  and  to  deny  the  will,  hence,  they  entered 
monasteries,  they  chastised  their  bodies,  they  educated  the  mind,  they  lived  in 
poverty  and  solitude,  but  while  they  have  attained  great  self-control  they  have 
not  succeeded  in  clianging  the  heart.  Thus,  you  perceive  that  philosophy  and 
religion  teach  the  same  doctrines  concerning  men's  hearts,  but  they  differ  in 


HEAD  AND  HEART.  67 

their  remedies.  Religion  teaches  that  the  divine  power  alone  which  made  the 
will  can  change  it,  and  this  is  the  doctrine  of  regeneration. 

The  heart  of  man  is  the  same  in  all  climes  and  ages — the  Bible  being  the  story 
of  the  human  heart,  is,  therefore,  suited  to  all  climes  and  ages.  So  music,  being 
the  language  of  the  heart,  is  practiced  by  all  nations  and  tribes.  When  preach- 
ing religious  truths  always  appeal  to  the  whole  man,  both  to  head  and  heart. 
Religion  is  not  exclusively  emotional,  neither  is  it  purely  thought.  While  the 
church  frequently  appeals  too  exclusively  to  the  emotional  man,  our  public 
schools,  in  many  places,  go  to  the  other  extreme  by  cultivating  the  mind  only. 
The  true  educational  plan  is  to  see  to  the  wants  of  the  whole  child,  those  of  head, 
heart  and  body. 

Doubtless,  the  home  and  Sabbath  school  are  the  places  where  heart  culture 
should  begin,  but  for  all  that  our  public  schools  have  a  great  work  to  do  in  this 
direction.  There  are  many  means  at  the  teacher's  command  designed  to  develop 
the  child's  heart  power.  The  love  element  is  a  great  aid  in  governing  a  school, 
and  the  teacher  who  cultivates  this  element  has  fewer  cases  of  discipline  and  does 
better  work.  Men  who  have  made  horses  a  study  have  long  taught  the  lesson 
that  the  best  mode  of  breaking  a  colt  is  to  use  kindness.  Alas,  in  many  homes 
and  schools  children  are  not  treated  as  well  as  colts  or  horses.  Many  parents  and 
teachers  commit  the  unpardonable  blunder  of  trying  to  break  the  child's  will — 
rather  than  strengthen  it  and  guide  it,  so  that  it  may  choose  that  which  is  good. 
Many  parents  punish  only  when  angry.  What  good  can  come  from  such  disci- 
pline ?  What  can  a  teacher  do  with  children  who  have  grown  up  at  home  almost 
like  wild  animals,  whose  hearts  are  mere  waste  places?  For  all  that,  it  is  my 
opinion,  based  upon  experience,  that  every  heart  may  be  reached  and  led  if  the 
proper  means  are  used,  and  I  give  it  as  my  decided  opinion  that  the  teacher  who 
fails  at  least  to  aim  at  establishing  a  love  atmosphere  in  his  school-room  falls 
short  of  his  mission,  no  matter  how  well  qualified  he  may  be  to  impart  instruc- 
tion. The  same  is  true  of  parents  and  homes.  Education  alone  cannot  make  a 
perfectly  good  heart  out  of  a  bad  one,  but  education  and  proper  training  doubt- 
less improves  it.  Education  is  always  advantageous  to  morality,  but  book-learn- 
ing alone  cannot  bring  it  about.  Men  may  be  thought  to  understand  the  Bible 
and  the  best  theology  and  at  the  same  time  be  rascals  at  heart. 

It  would  be  terrible  if  all  heart-training  were  neglected.  If  it  were,  who  could 
abide  here  on  earth?  Of  the  few  virtues  we  can  notice  the  first  is  friendship. 
This  is  a  plant  which  grows  only  in  a  good  heart.  Friendship  is  more  than  a 
mere  attachment,  its  roots  strike  deeper  than  mere  liking,  and  it  is  as  different  from 
mere  acquaintanceship,  as  night  is  different  from  the  day.  It  is  a  jewel  well 
spoken  of  by  the  Bible  and  is  highly  praised  by  the  philosophers.  Would  you 
call  your  friend  a  iosoni-friend,  let  the  heart  choose  him,  but  let  the  head  decide 
whether  you  have  wisely  chosen. 

Would  you  retain  the  friendship  of  one  whom  you  have  taken  to  your  heart, 
let  the  head  teach  you  how  to  keep  him.  To  disturb  the  friendship  of  two  per- 
sons is  one  of  the  lowest  things  man  can  do.  Most  men  can  be  lovers,  but  it  is 
not  given  to  all  to  be  good  friends.  Most  men  like  to  win  the  friendship  of  others, 
but  they  are  not  quite  so  ready  to  bestow  their  own.  Ask  not  for  that  which  you 
cannot  return.  Those  who  attempt  to  buy  the  friendship  of  others  show  what  a 


68  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

low  estimate  they  place  upon  their  own.  Tell  me  who  your  friends  are  and  I  will 
tell  you  what  manner  of  a  man  you  are.  Blessed  is  the  heart  than  can  boast  of 
a  true  friend,  but  the  heart  that  knows  not  true  friendship  misses  much  of  the 
joy  this  world  has  in  store  for  us. 

Charity — sweet  charity — who  can  sing  thy  praises  better  than  the  Bible? 
Floods,  fires,  earthquakes,  pestilence,  poverty,  are  indeed  great  afflictions,  but 
these  evils  are  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  deeds  of  charity  they  call  forth. 
The  heart  must  propose  acts  of  charity,  else  giving  or  doing  is  not  charity.  But 
while  the  heart  proposes  acts  of  charity  the  head  should  sit  in  judgment  over 
these  acts.  You  may  waste  a  fortune  by  giving  and  not  bestow  good  charity.  Ill- 
bestowed  gifts  and  unwise  assistance  are  not  charity. 

The  spirit  of  forgiveness  is  indeed  a  noble  one,  and  I  often  think  that  he  who 
can  and  does  forgive  an  injury  has  done  more  than  he  who  has  given  away  much 
money.  He,  however,  who  is  unwilling  to  forgive,  as  a  great  man  said,  burns 
down  behind  him  the  bridge  over  which  he  himself  will  eventually  wish  to  cross. 
The  Lord's  prayer  says:  "Forgive,  as  we  forgive."  It  is  the  heart  that  must 
forgive,  and  it  is  the  heart  that  cherishes  enmity,  not  the  head. 

Patriotism  is  one  of  the  noblest  virtues  of  the  human  heart.  He  who  is 
devoid  of  it  is  worthy  of  that  detestation  with  which  all  right-minded  men  regard 
him.  But  I  must  not  lengthen  my  paper  by  enumerating  the  heart's  virtues. 

I  [must  touch  on  a  subject  which  ever  has  been  and  ever  will  be  of  extraordi- 
nary interest  to  the  human  family.  I  mean  love  and  marriage.  They  should  be 
affairs  both  of  head  and  heart,  and  not  of  one  alone.  Love,  so  say  the  philoso- 
phers, makes  men  blind,  and  blind  people  are  always  exposed  to  dangers.  Purely 
heart  matches,  that  is,  genuine  love  affairs,  are  liable  to  be  stormy,  for  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  get  along  with  people  whose  hearts  rule  supreme.  Head  marriages,  on 
the  other  hand,  are  mere  convenience  matches,  they  are  often  selfish,  they  lack 
the  true  elements  of  love,  hence,  every  thing  that  transpires  in  such  families  rests 
upon  the  basis  of  cold  politeness.  The  heads  of  the  two  contracting  parties  rule 
all  their  actions ;  the  heart-fire  does  not  burn,  hence,  there  prevails  an  even  but 
also  a  cool  temperature  of  mere  civility.  Such  marriages  usually  are  calm,  but 
they  lack  the  noblest  sentiment,  the  noblest  fire,  one  spark  of  which  compen- 
sates for  a  good-size  family  broil  I  have  said  that  love  makes  men  blind,  which 
means  that  the  heart  refuses  to  hear  reason.  Says  a  great  poet : — 

"  To  be  wise  and  love 

Exceeds  men's  might." 
Shakespeare  says  : — 

"  Love  is  blind,  and  lovers  cannot  see 
The  pretty  follies  they  themselves  commit.'" 

In  another  place  the  immortal  William  says : — 

"Men's  vows  are  women's  traitors." 

But,  then,  dear  woman  loves  to  listen  to  these  vows  ;  woman's  ear  is  generally 
open  to  the  lover's  smooth  tongue,  and  knowing  how  attentively  it  is  listened 
to,  it  rattles  off  words  which  in  a  calmer  moment  would  be  regarded  as  evi- 
dences of  insanity  or  foolhardiness.  Still,  love's  language  is  delightful  to  utter 


HEAD  AND  HEART.  69 

and  to  listen  to.  While  I  do  not  condemn  it  indiscriminately,  I  make  free  to  say 
that  much  of  it  deserves  to  be  branded  as  mere  lies,  or,  at  best,  as  a  pack  of 
exaggerations. 

People  that  are  in  love  are  not  at  all  disposed  to  listen  to  the  language  of 
reason,  not  even  to  that  of  their  parents.  This  often  leads  to  runaway  matches 
and  to  unwise  unions.  At  last  calmer  days  come,  when  reason  assumes  control, 
and  then  the  head  brings  a  bill  of  indictment  against  the  heart.  Then  follow 
tears  and  lamentations,  and  the  fact  is  realized  that  two  blind  lovers  ought  to 
have  considered  the  results  before  acting.  By  all  means  love  when  you  are  about 
to  marry,  but  let  me  advise  you  not  to  trust  the  heart  alone — it  is  not  worthy  of 
such  confidence.  Give  the  head  a  little  show,  also. 

The  heart-power  is  indeed  great.  It  is  that  which  makes  the  world  either 
better  or  worse.  Oh,  what  have  great  men  not  said  about  love  ?  How  many 
dramas,  poems  and  novels  have  been  written,  how  many  pictures  have  been 
painted  and  songs  composed,  all  of  them  setting  forth  the  ever  fresh  theme  of 
human  love  ?  Though  we  have  heard  the  story  time  and  again,  it  is  always 
interesting  whenever  it  is  presented  to  us  in  new  forms.  He  who  has  loved  hears 
in  these  tales  an  echo  of  his  own  passion,  he  who  has  not  yet  loved  hopes  some 
day  to  be  swayed  by  its  magic  power.  Even  idle  gossipers  seem  to  take  a  special 
delight  in  discussing  other  people's  love  affairs,  and  perhaps  some  of  you  know 
from  experience  how  exasperating  it  is  to  be  watched  in  one's  courtship  while  we 
imagine  our  tracks  to  be  well  covered.  Men  usually  take  it  more  seriously  with 
love  before  they  are  married,  ladies  take  it  seriously  throughout  life.  Men's  love 
seems  sometimes  to  have  cooled  off  after  marriage,  yet  such,  upon  close  exam- 
ination, would  be  found  to  be  untrue. 

Man  yields  more  to  the  brain  than  to  the  heart ;  he  is  more  a  creature  of 
interest  and  ambition,  says  Washington  Irving.  His  nature  leads  him  forth  into 
the  struggle  and  bustle  of  life.  Love  is  but  the  establishment  of  his  early  life, 
or  a  song  piped  in  the  intervals  of  the  act.  He  seeks  for  fame,  for  fortune,  for 
space  in  the  world's  thoughts,  and  dominion  over  his  fellow-man.  But  a  true 
woman's  whole  life  is  the  story  of  her  affections.  The  heart  is  her  whole  world. 
It  is  there  her  ambition  strives  for  empire ;  it  is  there  her  avarice  seeks  for 
hidden  treasures.  She  sends  forth  her  sympathies  on  adventure ;  she  embarks 
her  whole  soul  in  the  traffic  of  affection,  and  if  shipwrecked  her  case  is  hopeless, 
for  it  is  a  bankruptcy  of  the  heart.  Says  Byron  : — 

"Man's  love  is  of  man's  life  a  thing,  a  part, 
'Tis  woman's  whole  existence." 

Man  reasons,  woman  judges  by  intuition.  The  love-power  is  the  lever  that 
lifts  mankind  to  a  higher  plane,  and  sweet  woman  is  its  representative.  I 
mean  now  that  pure  and  noble  love  for  all  mankind ;  that  love  which  is  one-half 
of  religion.  Woman  is  this  love-power ;  she  is  the  heart  element  of  the 
human  family.  If  woman  loves  the  pure  and  the  good  she  is  a  part  of 
that  great  moral  power  that  moves  the  world  upward,  but,  if  she  loves  the 
evil  she  is  apt  to  sink  lower  than  man,  and  she  is  almost  sure  to  drag  everything 
down  that  comes  in  contact  with  her.  Man,  as  a  rule,  stands  lower  in  the  scale  of 
morality  than  woman,  but  he  will  have  to  take  many  steps  in  order  to  reach  that 


70  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

point  of  degradation  which  a  woman  may  reach  with  one  step.  Says  a  writer — 
"Woman  comes  into  the  world  with  higher  ideas  than  man,  but  she  often  goes 
out  with  lower."  Woman's  love-power  is  the  loadstone  of  the  world  :  it  attracts 
that  which  is  good  and  repels  that  which  is  evil.  The  words  mother  and  wife 
are  two  of  the  dearest  words  in  our  language,  and  as  woman's  domain  is  home, 
the  words  Home,  sweet  Jumie,  have  a  sweet  ring  in  our  ears.  It  is  woman's 
heart-power  that  subdues  the  rudeness  of  men  where  other  remedies  seem  to  fail, 
hence  we  notice  often  that  rowdies  try  to  act  the  part  of  gentlemen  when  coming 
into  the  presence  of  a  refined  woman.  When  gold  was  discovered  in  California, 
men  rushed  wildly  to  the  places  where  the  precious  dust  was  found ;  there  was 
no  place  for  woman  in  those  earlier  settlements,  and  as  the  miners  were  deprived 
of  her  influence  they  often  sank  to  a  state  of  degradation  that  was  shocking. 
When,  at  a  later  period,  a  settler  brought  his  wife  along,  we  are  told  that  men 
came  for  miles  just  to  see  her  face.  What  was  it  that  attracted  them  ?  It  was 
woman's  love-power,  that  looks  out  of  her  gentle  eyes.  Man's  heart  turns  to  it 
as  the  needle  turns  toward  the  north.  It  is  always  good  for  man  to  come  in  con- 
tact with  the  character  of  pure  women.  Did  not  our  Saviour  love  Mary  and 
Martha?  The  best  friends  young  people  can  have  are  their  mothers ;  those  who 
neglect  this  friendship  surely  are  not  worthy  of  other  friends.  Woman's  love- 
power  is  the  strength  of  the  church  and  the  mission  ;  it  is  a  blessing  in  the  school- 
room and  the  sick  chamber.  Deprive  the  church  or  the  cause  of  missions  of 
woman's  influence  and  see  what  the  result  will  be.  Pure  woman's  heart  is  as  the 
sun  of  life,  under  whose  benign  influences  all  good  causes  develop  ;  it  is  as  a  burn- 
ing torch  that  kindles  love's  fire  wherever  its  sparks  fall  To  kindle  love,  to  keep 
its  fires  burning,  to  make  this  world  better  through  love,  this  is  woman's  mission. 
Every  true  man  loves  her  when  she  is  true  to  this  mission.  All  right-minded  men 
love  woman's  heart-power,  but  most  men  cease  to  love  woman  when  she  substi- 
tutes superiority  of  the  head  for  that  of  the  heart.  A  woman  who  suppresses 
the  heart-power,  a  woman  who  aims  to  rule  by  force  of  thought — a  strong-minded 
woman — a  "blue  stocking,"  if  you  please — puts  herself  out  of  the  ranks  of 
women  and  places  herself  on  the  side  of  the  sterner  sex.  Sensible  men  advocate 
woman's  highest  possible  culture.  Yes,  let  her  write  books,  paint  pictures,  carve 
statues ;  open  to  her  all  those  avenues  in  life  for  self-support  that  are  suited  to 
her  capacity  and  strength,  but  never  let  her  unsex  herself  by  substituting  superi- 
ority of  the  head  for  that  of  the  heart. 

It  has  been  said  that  man  is  more  a  creature  of  head  than  heart.  Says  a  writer, 
"He  must  battle  with  life,  he  must  develop  his  wits,  he  must  often  be  stern 
and  cold  ;  he  meets  with  many  rebuffs  in  life,  much  unjust  and  severe  criticism  is 
meted  out  to  him,  all  of  which  tends  to  make  him  hard-hearted  and  selfish."  Is 
it  a  wonder  that  men  love  to  return  home  in  the  evening,  there  to  rekindle  their 
own  love-power?  Alas,  what  strange  altars  some  women  erect  in  their  homes,  on 
whose  fires  they  expect  their  husbands  to  rekindle  their  love-powers  which  have 
been  checked  during  a  weary  day's  toil !  The  tattling  woman,  who  regales  her 
husband's  ears  with  idle  society  gossip,  the  contentious  woman,  whose  words  are 
as  a  consuming  fire,  are  still  to  be  found.  Such  women  have  driven  many  men 
out  of  house  and  home,  and  have  forced  them  to  seek  relief  in  the  intoxicating 
cup.  On  the  other  hand,  how  much  love-power  is  wasted  in  homes  where  hus- 


HEAD  AND  HEART.  71 

bands  fail  to  appreciate  woman's  mission  and  character.  Happy  is  the  home  that 
is  presided  over  by  a  loving  woman,  but  thrice  cursed  is  the  family  which  is  tor- 
mented by  a  contentious,  fault-finding,  unwomanly  woman. 

When  looking  for  wives  men  are  too  often  influenced  by  wealth  and  beauty,  and 
not  sufficiently  by  character.  Remember  good  looks  vanish,  and  woe  to  him  who 
has  staked  his  all  on  a  beautiful  face  !  There  is  a  nobler  beauty  than  that  of  the 
face  ;  I  mean  the  beauty  of  the  heart,  which  never  fades,  and  which  makes  an 
aged  countenance,  wrinkled  all  over,  appear  at  times  more  beautiful  than  that  of 
a  maiden  of  sweet  sixteen.  The  heart  that  has  cultivated  love  and  peace  looks 
out  of  a  loving  and  peaceful  face,  and  so  the  passionate  heart,  ready  to  burst  out 
in  anger,  the  heart  full  of  cunning  and  deceit,  reveals  its  own  character  on  the  face. 
He,  therefore,  who  marries  a  good  heart  will  ever  deem  his  wife  pretty,  for  the 
heart  beauty  cannot  fade. 

It  would  seem  impossible  to  mention  anything  in  connection  with  human  exist- 
ence that  is  heartless  and  headless,  yet  flirting  comes  under  this  head.  Do  not 
indulge  in  it ;  it  is  foolish  and  bad  ;  no  good  comes  out  of  it.  Would  that  woman 
could  realize  the  fact  that  she  is  the  greater  sufferer  from  this  senseless  amusement. 
Man  is  a  rougher  creature,  hence  he  can  stand  such  sports  much  better  than  deli- 
cate woman.  The  flirt's  heart  is  like  a  garden-spot  that  has  been  burned  all  over, 
until  not  a  pretty  flower  will  grow  upon  it  again.  Young  men  who  indulge  in 
flirtations  are  as  stupid  and  giddy  flies  that  find  a  dish  of  honey  standing  about. 
They  come  and  taste,  fly  off,  and  come  again,  until  at  last,  being  too  full  of  sweet- 
ness, they  fall  in  and  are  caught.  See  the  thoughtless  fly  as  it  slowly  crawls  out 
of  a  dish  of  honey.  Is  it  not  an  object  of  pity  and  ridicule  ?  See  how  it  moves 
slowly  on,  covered  with  sweetness.  That  which  it  once  enjoyed  has  now  robbed 
it  of  its  freedom.  So  appears  to  me  the  young  man  who  has  been  caught  by  a 
flirt ;  who  has  been  made  a  husband  against  his  will.  A  philosopher  once  said 
that  men  in  matrimonial  matters  are  like  flies  on  the  window — those  that  are  in 
try  to  get  out,  those  that  are  out  try  to  get  in.  But  the  woman  who  thus  led  him 
to  speak  harshly  of  the  marriage  relation  must  either  have  been  a  shrew  or  a  flirt, 
for  man  can  love  neither. 

Young  ladies  and  gentlemen  beware  of  flirts,  for  they  indulge  in  heartless  and 
brainless  sport.  Seek  the  good  heart,  it  alone  keeps  the  affections  warm,  it  alone 
brings  happiness  and  is  able  to  endure  the  trials  of  life. 

The  heart  brings  men  together,  thought,  or  the  brain,  drives  them  asunder, 
All  differences  in  religion  spring  from  the  head.  The  heart,  or  the  love  of  Christ, 
brings  all  Christians  together.  It  is  the  head  that  drives  political  parties  asunder, 
but  the  heart — the  love  for  country  and  the  flag — unites  ah1  citizens  in  its  defence. 
We  speak  of  a  republic  of  letters,  and  thus  we  learn  that  the  head,  or  learning, 
unites  us  like  citizens  of  one  country,  but  we  also  speak  of  the  brotherhood  of  man, 
showing  us  that  the  heart — the  love  for  mankind — unites  us  as  members  of  one 
family.  He  who  realizes  this  principle  of  the  brotherhood  of  man,  and  lives  up 
to  it,  has  gone  a  great  way  toward  the  love  of  God.  He,  however,  who  does  not 
love  his  fellow-man,  has  no  right  to  say  that  he  loves  his  God. 

I  have  laid  before  you  some  reflections  upon  head  and  heart,  and  now  that  I 
have  finished  my  task  I  feel  that  the  theme  is  too  great  to  be  treated  effectively 
in  a  lecture.  I  have  pictured  the  human  heart  in  colors  that  are  not  flattering 


72  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

to  it.  In  doing  so  I  have  spoken  not  only  from  experience  and  observation,  nay, 
I  have  higher  authority  than  this,  for  the  Word  of  God  pronounces  the  heart 
deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked.  I  have  shown  you  how  low 
the  heart  may  sink,  I  have  disclosed  to  you  its  own  dirty  bottom,  so  as  to  put  you 
on  your  guard  against  its  wiles.  On  the  other  hand,  I  have  shown  you  also  some 
of  its  good  sides — its  capabilities — so  that  you  may  not  be  discouraged,  but  seek 
to  rise  and  to  move  onward  on  the  path  of  duty. 

Hear,  then,  the  conclusion  of  all.  Lessing  said:  "Build  up  within  you  a 
dominion  in  which  you  may  be  kings  and  subjects  at  the  same  time,  for  the  only 
possessions  which  you  may  govern  are  your  hearts."  Finally,  hear  a  familiar  old 
word — one  that  is  ever  true — a  text,  which,  had  I  preached  a  sermon,  would  have 
been  placed  at  the  head  of  my  discourse,  but  which  I  now  place  at  its  close,  so 
that  it  may  make  all  the  deeper  impression,  namely :  "Keep  thy  heart  with  aU 
diligence,  for  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of  Life.'1 


THE  SANCTITY  OF  MUSIC. 


I  have  chosen  the  subject  of  the  sanctity  of  music  for  the  purpose  of  impressing 
your  minds  with  the  importance  and  the  seriousness  of  your  work.  No  one  of 
the  arts  is  so  popular,  no  one  is  so  generally  practiced,  as  the  art  of  music,  yet  not 
one  is  as  much  abused  as  it,  and  that  for  the  reason  that  its  high  meaning  is  but 
little  understood,  not  only  by  the  masses,  but  even  by  musical  students  and  teach- 
ers. The  art  is  used  too  much  as  an  amusement,  as  an  exhibition  of  skill,  as  a 
means  of  attracting  attention,  and  too  little  as  a  means  of  education.  Musicians 
often  revel  in  their  art,  they  even  worship  it,  but  they  fail  to  go  beyond  the 
pleasurable  sensations  produced  by  it.  Music  is  a  means  of  culture ;  it  is  one  of 
the  greatest,  and  perhaps  the  greatest  factor  in  human  civilization.  Not  until 
men  shall  use  the  art  with  the  spirit  of  reverence  will  it  exercise  those  powers  for 
which  it  is  designed.  The  present  generation  of  philosophers  and  teachers  are  only 
beginning  to  search  for  the  real  meaning  and  explanation  of  the  art,  and  they 
have  not  advanced  sufficiently  to  answer  even  these  simple  questions :  What  is 
music  ?  Wherein  consists  its  great  power?  Many  definitions  of  music  have  been 
given,  but  they,  without  an  exception,  are  imperfect.  I  desire  to  show  you  that 
there  is  a  higher  meaning  and  a  loftier  purpose  attached  to  this  mysterious  art, 
and  for  this  reason  I  shall  review  it  from  various  standpoints. 

Nearly  every  one  will  agree  with  me  that  a  revelation  was  necessary  for  the 
progress  of  true  civilization.  Learning  alone  does  not,  and  cannot,  bring  about 
this  result,  nor  could  the  arts  alone  accomplish  it.  He  who  studies  the  influence 
of  Christianity  must  confess  that  something  higher  than  human  learning  was 
required  to  advance  the  world.  The  ancients  certainly  were  profound  thinkers. 
The  philosophers  of  Greece,  at  least,  had  reached  a  high  degree  of  learning,  and 
no  one  would  deny  that  Hellas  enjoyed  an  unusual  degree  of  art  culture.  In 
many  particulars  we  must  still  go  to  them  for  instruction.  Yet,  despite  the  fact 
that  these  great  men  had  made  great  advancement  toward  the  horizon  of  human 
learning,  in  philosophy  at  least,  the  best  of  them  felt  that  something  else,  some- 
thing higher,  was  needed  to  explain  life.  Moreover,  their  wisdom  failed  to  reach 
the  masses ;  it  was  designed  for  scholars  only,  and  it  could  not  benefit  the  people. 
It  must  be  acknowledged  that  human  wisdom  and  speculation  came  to  a  limit,  as 
it  always  must  when  it  attempts  to  fathom  the  infinite.  Human  learning  is 
profound,  but,  despite  its  depth,  it  leaves  the  mind  unsatisfied.  There  is  a  uni- 
versal longing  to  look  into  the  beyond,  a  desire  for  progress,  a  cry  for  relief  from 
oppression,  from  sin,  a  wish  for  a  higher  existence.  This  yearning  and  longing 
could  only  be  satisfied  through  revelation;  hence,  the  tremendous  power  of 
Christianity ;  hence,  its  ability  to  satisfy  and  to  reach  the  masses ;  hence,  the 
devotion  of  its  followers,  the  swiftness  of  its  progress,  and  that,  too,  despite  the 

73 


74  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

most  violent  opposition.  Compare  the  poor  fishermen  with  the  Grecian  philoso- 
phers as  regards  their  learning,  and  it  must  at  once  appear  as  a  surprising  fact 
that  these  unlearned  preachers  revolutionized  the  world,  while  the  deep  learning 
of  the  philosophers  failed  to  do  so.  Their  divine  doctrines  fell  upon  human  hearts, 
as  gentle  rain  falls  upon  parched  ground. 

Compare  the  Apostles  with  a  Socrates,  an  Aristotle,  a  Plato,  or  a  Pythagoras, 
and  then  ask  the  question,  Whence  comes  their  great  power  ?  How  is  it  that 
these  simple  men,  who  lived  in  want  and  poverty,  who  were  untutored,  aroused 
Greece  and  Rome,  while  these  great  philosophers  failed  to  do  so.  A  great  philoso- 
pher teaches  that  the  human  mind  has  a  methaphysical  want,  yet  metaphysics 
has  never  become  a  panacea  for  the  world.  He  should  have  said  that  the  human 
mind  has  an  inborn  desire  for  revelation. 

Something  else  was  needed,  and  this  something  was  revelation.  Through  it 
alone  the  human  family  could  reach  its  present  state  of  civilization.  The  world 
was  ready  for  its  reception,  hence  it  spread  most  rapidly,  despite  the  slowness  of 
communication  between  states  and  countries.  In  its  onward  course  it  had  not  the  aid 
of  the  sword  to  hew  a  way  for  it,  it  was  not  protected  by  the  strong  arm  of  govern- 
ment ;  on  the  contrary,  it  was  opposed  by  those  in  power.  Yet  Christianity  seized 
upon  the  human  mind  and  heart,  it  revolutionized  the  masses,  it  improved  their 
conditions,  and  why  ?  Simply  because  of  its  supernatural  powers.  How  many 
lives  were  lost  in  the  establishing  and  maintaining  of  the  Roman  Empire  ?  How 
many  cruel  deeds  were  committed  in  aid  of  Islamism  ?  yet  the  new  doctrines 
spread,  despite  the  fact  that  their  adherents  were  often  compelled  to  surrender 
life.  Hellenic,  Roman,  Egyptian,  Persian,  Hindoo  and  Arabic  culture  was  pro- 
tected by  the  strong  arm  of  the  government,  and  by  the  mystic  power  of  the 
priesthood,  yet  it  failed  to  reach  the  people  ;  it  never  elevated  them  ;  Christian 
preachers,  however,  proclaimed  the  gospel  and  the  poor  accepted  it,  because  it  filled 
the  aching  void  of  their  hearts ;  because  they  had  faith  in  the  new  doctrines  and 
their  indestructibility.  Man's  attempts  at  civilization  were  a  failure,  and  now 
God  took  up  the  work.  Men  had  sunk  into  a  state  of  degradation  ;  the  race 
was  oppressed  and  tyrannized.  Had  not  the  Grecians  claimed  that  all  non-Hellens 
were  barbarians,  and  that  they  were  bora  to  serve  ?  Did  not  Rome  foster  slavery  ? 
Did  she  not  indulge  in  all  manner  of  cruelties  and  subtle  immoralities?  Men 
were  regarded  as  cattle,  and  woman  occupied  an  extremely  low  position.  The 
bonds  that  kept  the  masses  in  a  state  of  low  degradation  and  subjection  were  strong, 
and  mankind  cried  for  relief.  How  appropriately  Handel  begins  the  Oratorio  of  the 
Messiah  with  these  words  :  "  Comfort  ye  my  people,  saith  your  God  ;  speak  com- 
fortingly to  Jerusalem,  and  cry  unto  her  that  her  warfare  is  accomplished,  that  her 
iniquity  is  pardoned.  Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord  ;  make  straight  in  the 
desert  a  highway  for  our  God.  Every  valley  shall  be  exalted  and  every  mountain 
and  hill  made  low,  the  crooked  straight  and  the  rough  places  plain.  And  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  shall  be  revealed  and  all  flesh  shall  see  it  together,  for  the 
mouth  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken  it."  The  promised  relief  came,  and  it  was 
ushered  in  through  revelation  and  not  through  philosophy.  No  one  who  believes 
in  Christianity  will  deny  that  it  is  the  foundation-stone  of  modern  civilization, 
and  that  it  must  finally  be  its  capstone.  Let  rationalists  say  what  they  will, 
this  fact  is  true,  that  urithont  Christianity  our  civilization  would  not  be  what  it 


THE  SANCTITY  OP  MUSIC.  75 

is.  The  world  had  its  Buddha,  its  Confucius,  its  Zoroaster ;  it  had  the  great 
thinkers  of  Egypt,  Greece  and  Rome ;  yet,  what  was  the  condition  of  the  world 
at  the  time  when  Christ  came  ?  Christianity  is  the  kernel  out  of  which  our 
civilization  grew.  If  this  is  not  true,  why  did  the  human  family  fail  to  reach  it 
after  centuries  of  struggle  ?  Only  through  revelation,  with  Christ  as  its  centre, 
could  the  human  family  rise  to  the  present  high  state  of  culture. 

But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  music  ?  Let  us  see  !  It  is  a  significant  fact, 
that  the  good  book  is  full  of  allusions  to  music.  If  there  is  nothing  contained  in 
holy  writ  that  is  not  of  importance  to  man,  if  it  contains  the  much  needed  reve- 
lation, why  these  repeated  references  and  allusions  to  music?  Why  is  music  used 
in  connection  with  many  important  events  ?  From  the  book  of  Genesis  to  Reve- 
lation music  is  mentioned.  This  fact  is  not  without  meaning,  nay,  it  attaches  a 
great  importance  to  our  beloved  art  which  no  other  enjoys.  That  there  is  a  close 
connection  between  religion  and  music  is  a  fact  too  often  overlooked  or  even 
denied  by  many  musicians ;  yet  it  is  nevertheless  true.  I  am  happy  to  state, 
however,  that  the  number  of  those  who  view  our  art  in  its  proper  relations,  is 
constantly  on  the  increase.  In  its  relations  to  religion  music  attains  its  highest 
meaning.  This  does  not  imply  that  all  music  must  be  wedded  to  sacred  texts,  or 
that  it  is  to  be  used  in  connection  with  worship,  but  that  all  pure  art,  and  hence 
all  pure  art  music,  is  sacred  or  religious  in  its  character  and  mission.  If  the 
Bible  is  the  foundation  of  our  present  civilization,  music  has,  undoubtedly,  a  most 
important  mission  to  perform  in  this  work.  This  is  not  a  popular  idea  among 
those  who  make  music  its  own  finality ;  yet  we  firmly  believe,  that  eventually  this 
will  be  the  common  view  taken  of  art  in  general,  and  especially  of  music.  Who 
can  doubt  that  music,  when  it  is  practiced  in  this  spirit,  reaches  its  true  meaning. 

Next  to  religion,  music  is  one  of  the  greatest  civilizing  powers.  You  cannot 
point  to  a  nation  that  is  totally  devoid  of  religious  ideas,  neither  can  you  discover 
even  a  small  tribe,  be  it  ever  so  crude  in  its  customs,  but  has  its  music.  Where- 
ever  religion  has  a  foothold,  there  music  is  found.  There  is  an  inborn  love  for 
song  in  all  men.  The  power  of  music  is  so  great,  that  in  the  legends  of  all 
nations,  the  invention  of  the  art  is  ascribed  to  the  gods.  Among  the  children 
of  Israel  music  was  used  only  in  connection  with  worship,  and  is  it  unreasonable 
to  believe  that  there  will  come  a  time  when  all  art  practices  will  be  worship  ? 

In  the  fourth  chapter  of  the  book  of  Genesis,  the  invention  of  music  is  recorded. 
If  music  is  merely  a  plaything,  if  it  is  merely  an  amusement,  merely  a  means  to 
arouse  pleasant  emotions,  if  it  has  not  a  higher  mission,  why  does  the  book  of 
God  mention  its  origin  ?  Is  the  creation  or  origin  of  any  other  art  recorded  ? 
That  the  power  of  music  was  early  felt  and  appreciated,  is  evident  from  the  fact 
that  David  played  before  Saul  to  drive  away  the  evil  spirit.  Is  the  Bible  true,  or 
is  it  merely  a  myth  ?  If  it  is  the  truth,  does  this  instance  not  show  that  what 
Luther  said  is  true  also,  namely,  that  the  devil  hates  music.  Now  it  is  a  natural 
question  for  a  musician  to  ask,  why  was  music  used  to  drive  away  the  evil  spirit  ? 
Why  were  not  prayers,  exhortations  and  incantations  used  in  order  to  accomplish 
this  work  of  mercy?  The  Germans  say  that  where  they  sing,  there  you  may 
safely  rest,  for  bad  people  have  no  songs.  Of  course,  bad  people  sing,  but  they 
sing  not  with  the  spirit  of  love,  which,  as  I  shall  show  you,  is  the  one  power  that 
must  underlie  all  musical  practices. 


76  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

In  Second  Chronicles,  chapter  five,  we  read,  that  when  the  Levitea  were 
' '  arrayed  in  white  linen,  having  cymbals  and  psalteries  and  harps, ' '  and  when  they 
"stood  at  the  east  end  of  the  altar,  and  with  them  the  120  priests,  sounding  with 
trumpets,  it  came  to  pass,  as  the  trumpeters  and  singers  were  as  one  to  make  one 
sound,  to  be  heard  in  praising  and  thanking  the  Lord,  and  when  they  lifted  up 
their  voices  with  the  trumpets  and  cymbals  and  instruments  of  music,  and  praised 
the  Lord,  saying  (or  singing),  '  For  he  is  good,  for  his  mercy  endureth  forever,' 
that  then  the  house  was  filled  with  a  cloud,  even  the  house  of  the  Lord,  so  that 
the  priests  could  not  stand  to  minister  by  reason  of  the  cloud,  for  the  glory  of  the 
Lord  filled  the  house  of  God."  This  is  a  divine  manifestation,  but  why  did  it 
occur  during  a  musical  performance;  why  not  during  the  offering  of  sacrifices,  or 
during  the  act  of  prayer ;  why  did  it  not  occur  during  the  act  of  placing  the 
ark  in  the  temple?  Does  not  this  divine  manifestation  attach  a  great  and  a 
serious  importance  to  our  art  ? 

But  still  another  illustration.  In  Second  Kings,  3d  chapter,  we  read  of  Elijah 
having  been  asked  to  prophesy.  When  he  consented  to  do  so,  he  did  not  pray 
for  the  Spirit  to  descend,  he  did  not  confess  his  sins,  nor  did  he  ask  Saul  to  do  so, 
but  he  said,  "  '  Bring  me  a  minstrel.'  And  it  came  to  pass  that,  when  the  min- 
strel played,  the  hand  of  the  Lord  came  upon  him."  Why  was  music  required 
to  bring  down  the  Spirit  of  God  ?  Why  was  not  another  art,  why  were  not  burnt 
offerings  used  ?  It  is  indeed  a  most  remarkable  demonstration  of  the  great  power 
of  music.  Recall  the  fall  of  the  walls  of  Jericho.  Music  was  chosen  as  the  power 
to  accomplish  this  act,  and  through  music  this  miracle  was  wrought.  The  Lord 
could  have  chosen  any  other  means,  yet  he  chose  music  to  bring  it  about.  Has 
this  not  a  deep  meaning  ? 

When  God  gave  the  Decalogue,  lightning  was  seen  and  loud  thunder  was  heard ; 
yet  we  are  informed  that  above  all  this  were  heard  trumpet  sounds.  Why  was 
the  sound  of  music  added  to  these  manifestations  of  nature  ?  Why  was  it  intro- 
duced at  so  important  and  never  to  be  forgotten  an  event? 

When  the  angels  proclaimed  the  birth  of  Christ,  they,  no  doubt,  sang  that 
beautiful  sentence,  "Glory  to  God  in  the  Highest,  on  earth  peace  and  good  will 
toward  men. ' '  This  is  the  proclamation  of  the  divine  work  of  civilization.  While 
in  Old  Testament  history  music  is  connected  with  many  important  events,  and 
also  with  religious  worship,  we  learn  from  the  New,  that  music  is  to  be  used  in 
the  blessed  abode  above.  Whether  this  is  to  be  music  such  as  we  practice,  I  will 
not  say,  but  then  it  is  to  be  music.  Perhaps  in  the  last  days,  when  everything 
shall  be  changed  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  our  beloved  art  also  will  be  changed, 
but  this  does  not  lessen  the  force  of  the  Bible  truth.  Does  this  not  prove  that 
music  is  the  one  favored  art  of  God  ?  Ever  since  the  time  when  the  morning 
stars  sang  together,  until  now,  music  has  been  a  means  of  praise,  and  this 
honorable  position  our  art  shall  enjoy  throughout  all  eternity. 

Music  was  admitted  into  all  churches,  a  few  being  excepted ;  and  even  these 
are  yielding  in  this  direction.  It  has  ever  been  a  language  of  praise,  a  language 
for  the  expression  of  our  inner  soul-life.  Now  is  all  this  accidental,  or  has  it 
a  meaning  ?  Undoubtedly  we  have  a  right  to  claim  for  our  beloved  art  a  high 
position  and  a  most  noble  mission. 

But  turn  from  the  Bible  and  read  the  ancient  heathen  writers.     Though  the 


THE  SANCTITY  OP  MUSIC.  77 

idea  of  the  true  God  had  been  lost,  the  art  of  music  was  still  practiced,  and 
was  regarded  as  a  means  of  civilization.  Pythagoras  calls  music  the  emblem  of 
the  Cosmos.  His  disciples  claimed  that  music  was  designed  to  restore  the 
original  harmony  of  the  soul.  How  near  he  came  to  the  truth,  and  yet  how 
far  he  was  from  it.  At  night,  before  retiring,  his  followers  cleansed  their  souls 
through  calm  music,  and  in  the  morning  they  strengthened  themselves  through 
the  same  means.  Plato  speaks  of  a  music  of  the  spheres,  and  goes  parallel  with 
the  Psalmist,  who  says^that  the  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and  with  Job, 
who  speaks  of  the  morning  stars  singing  together.  The  ancient  Grecians  took 
great  pains  to  instruct  their  children  in  music.  Plato  said  that  youths  should  be 
trained  through  music  to  do  that  which  is  seemly,  for  music,  according  to  his 
ideas,  is  useful  in  all  serious  undertakings,  but  especially  so  in  war.  Soterichus 
speaks  of  the  fact  that  music  leads  to  that  which  is  great,  beautiful,  noble  and 
sublime  ;  and  through  it,  he  says,  we  are  benefited.  All  states,  he  adds,  which 
are  distinguished  for  the  best  laws  also  show  the  greatest  love  for  music.  Socrates 
claimed  that  true  education  means  gymnastics  for  the  body  and  music  for  the 
soul,  and,  says  the  same  sage,  music  must  begin  earlier  than  gymnastics.  The 
Grecians  attributed  peculiar  powers  to  certain  keys ;  some  were  suited  for  peace, 
some  for  war.  They  had  a  profound  knowledge  of  rhythm  and  its  powers, 
through  which  they  cultivated  their  sentiments,  making  themselves  receptive  for 
the  pure  and  good,  and  teaching  themselves  to  abhor  the  ugly.  But  enough  has 
been  said  to  show  that  the  ancient  Grecians  had  a  high  regard  for  music,  although 
they  knew  not  the  one  true  God. 

Let  us  now  turn  from  the  good  book  as  a  revelation,  and  realize  the  fact  that 
genius,  which  is  the  gift  of  God,  is  in  a  certain  and,  of  course,  in  a  limited  sense  a 
revelation  also.  Men  of  genius  have  been  sent  into  this  world  as  beacon  lights, 
that  men  may  also  by  these  means  be  helped  on  their  upward  course.  Undoubtedly 
Shakespeare  was  such  a  genius.  Who  can  deny  that  when  he  was  yet  in  his  cradle 
he  was  already  the  Shakespeare  who,  by  his  divine  gifts,  has  given  utterance  to  so 
many  profound  sayings  ?  Neither  schools  nor  example  made  him  what  he  was ; 
he  was  divinely  gifted,  and  his  utterances  in  many  instances  have  the  character 
of  divinations.  His  works  are  full  of  allusions  to  music,  only  a  few  of  which  I 
shall  quote.  Bear  in  mind  this  fact,  that  in  Shakespeare's  time  but  little  of  art 
music  was  known,  yet  in  his  precious  writings  we  discover  sentiments,  and  read 
wise  utterances  about  music  which  attribute  to  it  great  powers.  Listen  to  a 
quotation  from  "Richard  II."  In  his  monologue  in  prison  the  monarch  says, 
while  listening  to  music — 

"  For  music  mads  me,  let  it  sound  no  more  ; 
For  though  it  have  helped  madmen  to  their  wits, 
In  me,  it  seems,  it  will  make  wise  men  mad  ; 
Yet  blessings  on  his  heart  that  gives  it  me, 
For  'tis  a  sign  of  love,  and  love  for  Richard 
Is  a  strange  brooch  in  this  all-hating  world  !' ' 

Observe  the  great  writer  recognizing  the  fact  that  music  has  cured  insanity  ! 
What  art  is  this  which  follows  man,  as  a  sweet  blessing,  into  the  greatest  depths 
of  misery,  those  depths  where  even  religious  instruction,  the  kind  words  of  friends, 


78  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

can  afford  no  consolation  or  aid  ?  When  man's  mind  is  disordered,  when  reason 
fails,  then  the  divine  art  is  still  a  blessing  ;  it  affects  both  mind  and  heart,  and 
often  has  restored  what  was  lost.  W  hat  a  blessing  music  is  to-day  to  the  thousands 
locked  up  in  asylums  ?  Yet,  notice  also  the  first  saying  of  the  king,  namely, 
that  music  mads  him.  With  its  gentle  and  persuasive  tones,  no  doubt,  it  opens 
the  sluices  of  memory  ;  it  brings  back  the  recollections  of  youth,  with  its  blessings 
and  innocence,  and  thus  it  causes  sad  reflections  upon  an  ill-spent  life.  Music 
leads  the  hearer  to  draw  a  contrast  between  the  past  and  the  present ;  it  awakens 
conscience,  and  this  no  doubt  is  what  the  author  means  when  he  causes  King 
Richard  to  say  that  this  music  makes  a  wise  man  mad.  But  notice  also  the  fact 
that  the  king,  who  is  weary  of  life,  who  is  bowed  down  by  misfortunes,  goaded 
by  his  own  errors ;  who  is  kept  in  prison  for  his  wrongs,  in  the  midst  of 
these  trying  circumstances,  is  suddenly  led  by  music  to  pronounce  a  blessing. 
When  hearing  music,  he,  who  is  on  the  verge  of  despair,  says:  "Blessings  on 
his  heart  that  gives  it  me  !  "  See  the  noble  influences  of  our  art ;  see  the 
good  a  simple  musician  is  permitted  to  do.  Though  heavy  walls  separate  him 
from  the  one  for  whom  he  played,  his  music  calls  forth  a  blessing  from  the  lips 
of  a  despairing  sufferer.  Who  can  doubt  that  thousands  of  bleeding  and  suffer- 
ing hearts,  that  were  on  the  verge  of  uttering  a  curse,  were  through  music  made 
to  utter  a  blessing  ?  Who  can  deny  that  thousands  of  hearts  have  found  consola- 
tion in  music,  when  no  other  earthly  language  would  have  reached  them. 

And  now  follow  the  poet  a  step  farther,  and  notice  that  he  regards  music  as  a 
sign  of  love  !  Ah  blessed  Shakespeare  !  Here  one  sees  a  spark  of  thy  powers  of 
divination.  Knowing  nothing  about  art  music  and  its  powers,  he  ascribes  to  it 
the  spirit  of  love  !  In  these  words  he  utters  the  greatest  truth  with  regard  to 
music,  for  music  is  love,  religion  is  love,  and  blessed  love  is  the  link  that  binds 
the  two  inseparably.  Yet,  let  us  not  overlook  the  sad  fact,  that  while  music  and 
love  are  divine  gifts,  they  both  are,  also,  shockingly  abused.  Both  religion  and 
music  aim  to  spread  the  spirit  of  love,  which  is  the  atmosphere  of  heaven,  and 
when  love  shall  once  reign  supreme,  then  also  will  music  exercise  its  greatest 
power,  for  then  shall  we  have  reached  the  highest  point  of  civilization. 

Permit  me  to  give  you  a  few  other  quotations.  King  Henry  IV,  the  dying 
monarch,  says : — 

"  Let  there  be  no  noise  made,  my  gentle  friends, 
Unless  some  dull  and  favorable  hand 
Will  whisper  music  to  my  weary  spirit." 

What  a  picture !  A  departing  monarch,  after  enduring  many  struggles  in 
behalf  of  his  crown,  at  last  comes  to  the  brink  of  that  cold,  chill  river  which 
divides  the  known  from  the  unknown.  Though  the  possessor  of  a  kingdom  with 
all  its  wealth,  he  asks  only  that  some  one  will  whisper  music  to  his  weary  spirit ! 
This,  and  nothing  more  !  Why  did  he  merely  ask  for  music  ?  Ah,  it  was  to  be 
an  invisible  bridge  for  his  pain-racked  mind,  on  which  he  might  cross  this  chill 
river ;  it  was  to  be  a  soothing  voice,  that  should  enable  him  in  peace  to  enter  the 
long  sleep  !  Oh,  what  is  music,  when  dying  kings  are  made  to  ask  for  it  as  their 
last  request?  The  monarch  did  not  ask  for  the  consolation  of  friends,  he  did 
not  long  to  hear  his  deeds  of  valor  recounted,  he  did  not  ask  for  homage  as  a 


THE  SANCTITY  OP  MUSIC.  79 

sovereign,  nay,  all  he  wanted  was  a  whispering  of  music — that  and  nothing  more. 
What  a  tribute  to  the  secret  powers  of  our  art !  Should,  we  not  revere  and  love 
it,  should  we  not  use  it  with  genuine  devotion  ?  But  then  King  Henry's  kst 
request  is  the  same  as  that  of  millions  of  Christians,  who,  when  about  to  exchange 
mortality  for  immortality,  ask  for  no  more  than  a  simple  song  of  praise.  They 
wish  to  die  with  the  fragrance  of  religious  song  on  their  lips,  or,  if  perchance  the 
voice  is  too  feeble  to  sing,  they  wish  to  hear  sweet  song  from  the  lips  of  the  loved 
ones,  and  with  it  in  their  hearts,  they  desire  to  reach  the  other  shore.  On  the 
pinions  of  song,  they  wish  their  souls  to  rise  to  the  throne  of  Grace.  Ask 
ministers  how  many  hymns  there  are  that  are  wedded  to  death-bed  scenes. 

Still  another  quotation.  In  the  "Twelfth  Night,"  the  Duke  says  to  his 
musician — 

"  If  music  be  the  food  of  love,  play  on, 

Give  me  excess  of  it ;  that,  surfeiting, 

The  appetite  may  sicken,  and  so  die. 

That  strain  again  ;  it  had  a  dying  fall : 

Oh,  it  came  o'er  my  ear  like  the  sweet  south, 

That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets, 

Stealing  and  giving  odor." 

In  another  place  he  says — 

"  Give  me  some  music  ;  that  piece  of  song, 
That  old  and  antique  song  we  heard  last  night ; 
Methought  it  did  relieve  my  passion  much  ; 
More  than  light  airs  and  recollected  terms 
Of  these  most  brisk  and  giddy-paced  times." 

One  might  write  a  whole  lecture  about  Shakespeare's  wonderful  utterances  in 
connection  with  music.  Notice  that  the  Duke  asks  for  the  antique  song,  and  that 
he  preferred  it  to  the  light  airs  of  the  giddy-paced  times.  Learn  from  Shake- 
speare, and  use  but  that  which  is  good ;  avoid  the  giddy,  the  flashy  and  silly  in 
music. 

Only  one  more  quotation  and  I  shall  dismiss  the  immortal  William,  as  our  good 
and  learned  Dr.  Black  so  fondly  calls  him.  In  the  "Merchant  of  Venice" 
Lorenzo  says — 

"How  sweet  the  moonlight  sleeps  upon  this  bank  ! 
Here  will  we  sit,  and  let  the  sounds  of  music 
Creep  in  our  ears  ;  soft  stillness,  and  the  night, 
Become  the  touches  of  sweet  harmony. 
Sit,  Jessica  :  Look  how  the  floor  of  heaven 
Is  thick  inlaid  with  patines  of  bright  gold  ; 
There's  not  the  smallest  orb,  which  thou  behold'st, 
But  in  his  motion  like  an  angel  sings, 
Still  quiring  to  the  young-ey'd  cherubins : 
Such  harmony  is  in  immortal  souls  ; 
But,  whilst  this  muddy  vesture  of  decay 
Doth  grossly  close  it  in,  we  cannot  hear  it. 


80  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

The  reason  is  your  spirits  are  attentive  : 

For  do  bat  note  a  wild  and  wanton  herd, 

Or  race  of  youthful  and  nnhandled  colts, 

Fetching  mad  bounds,  bellowing,  and  neighing  loud, 

Which  is  the  hot  condition  of  their  blood  ; 

If  they  but  hear  perchance  a  trumpet  sound, 

Or  any  air  of  music  touch  their  ears, 

You  shall  perceive  them  make  a  mutual  stand, 

Their  savage  eyes  turn'd  to  a  modest  gaze, 

By  the  sweet  power  of  music  :  Therefore,  the  poet 

Did  feign  that  Orpheus  drew  trees,  stones,  and  floods ; 

Since  nought  so  stockish,  hard,  and  full  of  rage, 

But  music  for  the  time  doth  change  his  nature : 

The  man  that  hath  no  music  in  himself, 

Nor  is  not  mov'd  with  concord  of  sweet  sounds, 

Is  fit  for  treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils  ; 

The  motions  of  his  spirit  are  dull  as  night, 

And  his  affections  dark  as  Erebus  : 

Let  no  such  man  be  trusted." 

Here  we  see  the  poet  describe  the  magic  effect  of  music  upon  the  animal 
creation,  and,  indeed,  there  is  scarcely  any  animal  but  does  yield  to  its  charms. 
Even  the  crawling  serpent  with  its  poisonous  fangs  is  tamed  by  sweet  melody. 
Well  may  one  ask :  Is  all  this  meaningless? 

Does  God  do  a  purposeless  thing?  Why  do  the  human  and  animal  creation 
yield  so  willingly  to  the  charms  of  music  ?  Undoubtedly  it  is  the  divine  will  that 
it  should  so  be.  And  now  comes  the  question,  why  did  he  create  this  love  for 
music,  and  why  did  he  give  us  music  itself,  unless  it  is  to  be  an  educational  factor? 
Ah,  music  is  more  than  a  mere  amusement.  If  it  were  only  this,  we  would  be 
deceived,  all  our  musical  practices  would  be  the  emptiest  and  most  meaningless 
performances  imaginable.  But  can  this  be  so,  in  view  of  all  that  has  been  said  ? 
Surely  not !  God  has  given  us  this  art  for  a  high  and  noble  purpose,  he  has 
inclined  our  hearts  toward  it,  and  if  we  fail  to  realize  all  the  noble  influences  that 
may  be  drawn  from  it,  it  is  because  we  have  not  studied  the  art  as  we  should, 
because  we  ourselves  are  not  prepared  for  its  blessed  influences. 

But  listen  to  these  words  once  more  :  "  Such  harmony  is  in  immortal  souls ; 
but,  whilst  this  muddy  vesture  of  decay  doth  close  it  in,  we  cannot  hear  it. ' '  Ah ! 
this  music  of  the  soul  or  the  heart  is  a  wondrous  power,  and  if  it  has  once  been 
heard,  it  will  never  be  forgotten.  He  who  has  been  under  its  influence,  has  tasted 
greater  joy  and  deeper  sorrow  than  can  be  expressed  in  words.  Would  you  hear 
this  music,  seek  solitude  and  silence,  retire  from  the  world  of  laughter  and  merri- 
ment, and  enter  the  world  of  love,  sympathy  and  meditation.  There,  listen  to 
your  heart  and  you  may  hear  music  that  is  calculated  to  arouse  your  emotional 
nature  to  its  deepest  depth.  When  the  sun  has  gone  down  beyond  those  red  and 
gorgeously  colored  clouds  that  appear  like  so  many  huge  steps  leading  into 
Heaven  itself,  when  the  birds  have  ceased  to  sing,  when  silence  reigns,  and  when 
the  stars  look  down  upon  you  like  so  many  loving,  watchful,  but  also  soul-searching 
eyes,  then  the  heart  vibrates  most  readily.  Listen  !  and  perchance  you  will  hear 


THE  SANCTITY  OP  MUSIC.  81 

your  mother's  voice  singing  again  those  songs  you  loved  to  hear  from  her  lips. 
Then  you  may  also  hear  the  old  familiar  Sabbath-school  hymns,  the  songs  of  the 
sanctuary  as  well  as  those  of  the  school-room.  Presently  the  vibrating  strings  will 
also  reproduce  those  strains  you  sang  when  a  child  among  many  children,  gathered 
around  shady  trees  or  sitting  on  the  porch  in  the  twilight  of  the  evening.  Then 
you  may  also  hear  the  song  you  sang  so  sweetly  when  love's  impulses  were  first 
touching  your  youthful  heart.  The  longer  one  listens  to  this  silent  music,  the 
more  powerful  it  becomes,  until  at  last  all  communication  with  the  outer  world 
ceases.  Then  the  mind  reaches  beyond  the  present,  and,  in  its  flight,  it  searches 
for  those  things  that  are  hidden. 

When  we  yield  to  such  influences,  it  seems  to  me  I  hear  the  old  church-bells 
of  my  far-off  home,  I  hear  the  sweet  and  majestic  tones  of  the  organ  my  youth- 
ful fingers  played  with  so  much  reverence.  Many  a  lost  chord,  many  a  long- 
forgotten  melody  then  makes  itself  heard,  chords  and  melodies  which  for  years 
had  been  crowded  out  of  the  heart  and  mind.  Sadly  I  hear  the  choir  chanting 
the  requiem  for  the  dead,  and  quicker  beats  the  pulse  as  I  hear  again  the  Te 
Deum  as  it  was  sung  on  Easter  and  Christmas  festivals.  While  thus  in  a  reflect- 
ive mood,  scene  quickly  follows  scene,  ever  changing  like  the  figures  of  a  kalei- 
doscope. The  heart  music  changes  from  the  soft  minor  into  the  bright  major, 
and  back  again  into  the  sombre  minor.  The  grand  and  passionate  Allegro  is 
succeeded  by  the  gentle  Adagio,  and  the  painful  scenes  of  the  past  are  softened 
and  blended  with  those  that  are  pleasant,  as  the  dominant  chord  resolves  itself 
into  that  of  the  tonic.  One  after  another  the  sluices  of  memory  are  opened, 
bringing  back  old  friends,  events  and  situations,  which  the  busy  world  had  long 
ago  crowded  into  the  rear  chamber  of  memory.  But  then  the  silent  music  of  the 
heart  is  not  always  sweet  and  gentle.  Discords,  too,  are  heard,  and  painful 
melodies  are  sung.  The  heart-strings  often  quiver,  and  the  tones  produced  by 
them  are  often  loud  and  shrill,  like  those  of  the  seolian  harp  when  blown  upon 
by  the  fierce  north  wind.  This  is  music  of  sorrow  over  wrong  deeds,  over  life's 
errors.  Then  are  heard  the  dirges  over  ill-spent  hours  and  over  wasted  oppor- 
tunities. Who  can  long  endure  such  music?  Its  effects,  however,  are  softened 
by  the  sounds  of  a  sweet  anthem  that  is  wafted  into  the  heart  with  the  consoling 
words,  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you 
rest."  When  this  sweet  and  promising  music  is  heard,  the  heart  takes  courage 
again,  it  becomes  calm  once  more,  and  while  listening  to  it,  its  inner  chambers 
become  bright  and  shining.  Verily,  at  such  an  hour  the  heart  realizes  more  of 
the  true  meaning  of  life  than  philosophers  ever  revealed.  This  is  music  not  to 
be  found  in  books,  this  is  music  which  the  -deaf  ear  can  hear,  music  which  the 
heart  is  always  ready  to  produce,  if  we  but  give  it  an  opportunity.  This  music 
is  heard  in  its  greatest  beauty  by  those  whose  emotional  natures  are  best  developed 
and  most  refined.  This  is  the  music  which  Beethoven  heard  all  the  more 
strongly,  because  the  sense  of  hearing  had  been  destroyed.  Having  lived  a  life 
of  isolation  for  many  years,  having  communed  much  with  his  own  soul,  his  heart 
music  became  more  powerful.  He  diligently  listened  to  it,  he  faithfully  caught 
it,  and  by  the  aid  of  his  genius  he  gave  it  to  the  instruments.  Hence  it  is  that 
his  tones  speak  with  such  irresistible  force.  They  come  from  the  depth  of  a 
noble  heart,  and  for  this  reason  they  never  fail  to  touch  and  to  arouse  the  emo- 
6 


82  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

tions  of  all  fine  feeling  people.  "What  soul  music  must  lie  have  heard  as  he 
wandered  lonely  through  fields  and  valleys,  with  no  sound  from  the  outer  world 
to  disturb  the  music  within  ?  The  great  tone  masters  were  men  of  noble  souls, 
they  were  endowed  with  deep  emotional  natures  ;  hence  it  is  that  their  music  lifts 
us  up  to  a  higher  sphere  as  we  listen  to  the  beatings  of  their  own  hearts.  We 
commune  with  them  in  the  spirit,  and  are  made  better  by  them. 

But  if  the  masters  wrote  from  the  heart,  if  they  heard  much  silent  music 
within,  which  they  wrote  down  for  us,  those  who  aim  to  perform  it  must  in  a  like 
manner  sing  and  play  with  the  best  powers  of  their  hearts  and  minds.  No  matter 
how  simple  may  be  the  strain  that  is  awakened  by  the  musician's  touch  of  the 
instrument,  if  the  player  expresses  the  composer's  feelings  and  full  meaning,  the 
performance  is  artistic.  Every  student  should  aim  at  this  power  of  reproducing 
the  true  heart  music  as  it  lies  hidden  in  the  notes. 

When  those  who  have  communed  much  with  their  own  souls,  those  who  have 
cultivated  heart  music,  come  to  the  end  of  their  life's  journey,  they  often  see 
sweet  visions  and  hear  sweet  sounds  that  afford  them  consolation  and  joy.  Though 
speech,  sight  and  hearing  have  failed  them,  making  it  impossible  for  those  who 
stand  soiTOwing  around  the  dying  to  communicate  with  them,  though  they  can 
neither  see  loved  faces  nor  hear  the  gentle  accents  of  beloved  voices,  though  their 
lips  are  parched  and  their  voices  are  broken,  yet  in  the  midst  of  their  suffering 
and  mortal  loneliness  we  see  their  faces  light  up,  and  in  rapture  almost  they 
whisper :  How  beautiful !  How  beautiful !  It  is  at  such  a  time  that  they  hear 
the  music  of  the  soul,  that  silent  music  I  spoke  of,  that  music  which  the  Scotch 
believe  comes  from  the  spheres.  Of  course,  only  those  who  in  life  have  cultivated 
this  heart  music  may  also  hear  it  in  their  dying  hour.  Well  did  Shakespeare 
say  to  Jessica  : — 

"  Such  harmony  is  in  immortal  souls  ; 
But  while  this  muddy  vesture  of  decay 
Does  close  it  in,  we  cannot  hear  it." 

But  listen  and  you  will  hear  beautiful  music — that  is,  if  it  is  in  your  hearts. 

Having  quoted  the  Bible,  having  heard  what  Shakespeare  had  to  say  about 
music,  let  me  now  turn  for  a  moment  to  the  great  Reformer,  Luther.  He  surely 
was  chosen  by  God  to  do  a  great  work,  he  gave  a  new  impulse  to  that  civilization 
which  Christianity  had  begun,  but  which  had  been  retarded  in  its  onward  course 
through  man's  love  for  oppression  and  gain.  It  surely  is  of  interest  to  hear  what 
so  great  a  man,  a  God-chosen  instrument  for  a  great  and  important  work,  has  to 
say  about  music.  One  of  the  first  acts  of  the  great  Reformer  was  to  introduce 
music  in  the  public  schools  of  Saxony.  Thus  we  see  the  great  leader,  who  was 
no  doubt  guided  by  God,  bring  music  right  down  to  the  people.  Not  only  did 
he  introduce  music  into  the  public  schools  ;  nay,  he  allowed  the  people  to  sing  in 
the  church,  a  privilege  hitherto  denied  them.  Thus  he  at  once  brought  music 
to  the  old  and  young,  and  he  made  it  a  blessing  to  the  people.  Of  him  it  is 
justly  said,  that  he  laid  the  foundation  for  German  musical  art.  The  first  impulse 
for  German  musical  art  came  in  connection  with  a  great  religious  movement, 
hence  it  rests  on  a  religious  basis,  for  out  of  the  Protestant  choral  grew  Bach  and 
Handel,  the  roots  aud  trunks  of  the  German  art  tree.  But  then  see  how  the 


THE  SANCTITY  OP  MUSIC.  83 

Reformer  uses  music  as  a  means  to  spread  the  Gospel.  The  Reformation  was 
not  only  a  revival  of  religion,  but  it  was  also  an  awakening  of  song.  I  will  quote 
only  a  few  sentences  from  the  two  essays  he  wrote  on  music.  Aside  from  these, 
he  often  alludes  to  the  art  in  his  voluminous  writings,  and  always  professes  for  it 
the  deepest  reverence  and  love.  Says  he,  "I  scarcely  know  where  to  begin  and 
where  to  end  in  singing  its  praises. ' '  He  claimed  that  God  takes  care  of  man  and 
of  art,  and  he  strongly  enjoins  it  upon  the  church  to  foster  the  latter.  "  Song, ' ' 
says  he,  "makes  the  sad  joyful,  it  gives  courage  to  the  faint-hearted,  and  the 
haughty  it  makes  more  gentle."  In  his  opinion  there  is  nothing  'so  well  calcu- 
lated to  control  the  emotions  as  music,  hence  he  calls  the  art  a  disciplinarian, 
calculated  to  make  children  gentle  and  meek  minded.  He  teaches  that  God  has 
honored  music  throughout  all  ages.  Those  who  love  not  song,  Luther  calls,  in  his 
blunt  language,  "blockheads,  who  ought  to  be  treated  to  the  bawling  of  donkeys, 
the  barking  of  dogs,  and  squealing  of  pigs. ' '  Those  who  use  the  art  for  selfish  pur- 
poses he  calls  ' '  degenerated  children  and  changelings. ' '  He  places  music  next  to 
theology,  which  is  its  proper  place,  and  adds  that,  ' '  the  devil  hates  it. "  "  Where 
music  is  sharpened  by  art,"  says  he,  "  one  sees  the  great  and  perfect  wisdom  of 
God  in  his  wonderful  work."  Yes,  he  goes  so  far  as  to  call  music  "  the  trans- 
figured daughter  of  heaven,"  a  solace  to  him  in  his  arduous  task.  Now,  is  it 
not  a  singular  fact  that  the  great  Reformer,  whom  God  had  chosen  to  renew  the 
work  of  civilization,  was  a  musician  also,  a  lover  of  the  art,  a  man  on  whom  rests 
the  entire  German  musical  art  work  ?  Is  this  fact  not  significant  ?  and,  in  view  of 
what  has  been  said,  can  it  be  meaningless  ?  And  if  it  has  a  meaning,  what  is  it? 

But  are  not  the  poets  in  a  sense  inspired  ?  They  are  the  sweet  singers  who  are 
also  designed  to  help  along  the  great  work  of  civilization  through  their  inspira- 
tions. If  I  were  to  gather  what  has  been  said  by  them  in  praise  of  music,  I 
might  fill  a  volume.  Only  a  few  quotations  shall  be  offered,  to  show  what  fine 
feeling  poets  have  said  about  our  beloved  art. 

Collins  wrote  : — 

"  Music,  sphere  descended  maid, 
Friend  of  pleasure,  wisdom's  aid." 

Montgomery  said : — 

"Through  every  pulse  the  music  stole, 
And  held  sublime  communion  with  the  soul, 
Wrung  from  the  coyest  breast  th'  imprisoned  sigh, 
And  kindled  rapture  in  the  coldest  eye." 

Pope  sang  thus  : — 

"By  music  minds  an  equal  temper  know, 
Nor  swell  too  high  nor  sink  too  low; 
If  in  the  breast  tumultuous  joys  arise, 
Music  her  soft  assuasive  voice  applies, 
Or  when  the  soul  is  pressed  with  cares, 
Exalts  her  in  enlivening  airs. 
"Warriors  she  fires  with  animated  sounds, 
Pours  balm  into  the  bleeding  lovers'  wounds, 
Melancholy  lifts  her  head, 


84  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

Morpheus  rouses  from  his  bed, 
Sloth  unfolds  her  arms  and  wakes, 
Listening  envy  drops  her  snakes. 
Intestine  war  no  more  our  passions  wage, 
And  giddy  factions  bear  away  their  rage." 

Thomas  Moore,  Ireland's  sweet  singer,  writes : — 

"Mine  is  the  day  that  lightly  floats, 
And  mine  are  the  murmuring  dying  notes, 
That  fall  as  soft  as  snow  on  the  sea, 
And  melt  in  the  heart  as  instantly. 
And  the  passionate  strain  that's  deeply  going, 

Refines  the  bosom  it  trembles  through, 
As  the  musk  wind,  over  the  water  blowing, 

Ruffles  the  wave,  but  sweetens  it  too." 

In  another  poem  he  says  : — 

"  Music  !  oh,  how  faint,  how  weak, 

Language  fades  before  thy  spell, 
"Why  should  feeling  ever  speak, 

When  thou  canst  breathe  her  soul  so  well. 
Friendship's  balmy  words  may  feign, 

Love's  are  e'en  more  false  than  they; 
Oh,  'tis  only  music's  strain, 

Can  sweetly  soothe  and  not  betray." 

Holmes  writes,  after  listening  to  an  organ  concert :  — 

"  I  asked  three  little  maidens,  who  heard  the  organ  play, 
Where  all  the  music  came  from  that  stole  our  hearts  away. 

I  know,  said  fair-haired  Edith: 

It  was  the  autumn  breeze 
That  whistled  through  the  hollows 

Of  all  those  silver  trees. 

No,  child,  said  keen-eyed  Clara, 

It  is  a  lion's  cage; 
They  woke  him  out  of  slumber, 

I  heard  him  roar  and  rage. 

Nay,  answered  soft-voiced  Anna, 
'Twas  thunder  that  you  heard, 

And  after  that  came  sunshine, 
And  singing  of  a  bird. 

Hush  !  hush  you  little  children, 

For  all  of  you  are  wrong, 
I  said,  my  pretty  darlings, 

It  was  no  earthly  song, 


THE  SANCTITY  OF  MUSIC.  85 

A  band  of  blessed  angels 

Has  left  the  heavenly  choirs, 
And  what  you  heard  last  evening 

Were  seraph  lips  and  lyres." 

Only  one  more  of  the  many  I  might  ofier  you. 
Says  Miss  Carter : — 

"  The  world  is  full  of  wondrous  song; 
We  pause  to  hearken,  and  we  hear, 
Forever  sounding  far  or  near, 
Those  sweet  vibrations  soft  or  strong ; 
Yet  sweeter  sound  and  far  more  dear 
Than  to  the  outward  sense  can  hear, 
That  rings  upon  the  inward  ear, 
The  loved  old  songs  of  home. 

We  catch  the  music  of  the  May ; 

The  tender  voice  of  bird  or  breeze, 

That  trembles  tuneful  through  the  trees, 
And  faint  and  sweet  from  far  away, 

The  mingled  murmur  of  the  seas ; 

Yet  sweeter,  dearer  far  than  these, 
Though  Sirens  sang  across  the  foam, 

Are  echoed,  through  life's  silences, 
The  loved  old  songs  of  home. 

The  old,  old  tunes,  the  sweet  old  words 

That  lips  grown  silent  loved  to  sing  ; 

How  close  around  the  heart  they  cling, 
Smiting  its  truest,  tenderest  chords  ; 

Let  all  the  world  with  music  ring, 
Where'er  we  rest,  where'er  we  roam, 

Not  one  can  touch  so  sweet  a  string, 

Or  to  the  heart  such  rapture  bring, 
As  these  loved  songs  of  home." 

But  I  must  cease  quoting.  Read  for  yourselves,  and  notice  that,  whenever 
poets  try  to  catch  in  words  the  spirit  of  music,  they  write  their  tenderest  lines. 

Now  behold  music  as  the  companion  of  man.  It  follows  him  through  joy  and 
sorrow,  it  is  with  him  in  sickness  and  health,  it  is  a  delight  in  the  prison  as  well 
as  on  the  pleasure  ground,  it  is  heard  in  Sabbath-school  and  in  church  ;  we  love 
it  in  youth  as  well  as  in  old  age,  it  is  welcome  in  peace  and  in  war,  it  delights  us 
in  the  school-room  as  well  as  in  the  home-circle ;  we  hear  it  while  resting  on 
our  mother's  breast,  it  greets  the  bride  at  her  wedding  and  follows  us  even  to  the 
tomb !  Is  there  any  other  power  or  created  being  that  is  such  a  steady  com- 
panion to  man's  life,  the  word  of  God  excepted  ?  Is  there  another  companion  as 
tender,  as  faithful,  and  as  soothing  as  sweet  music,  except  the  word  of  God  ? 
Is  there  another  power  that  awakens  and  holds  the  human  heart  as  does  music? 

And  now,  if  God  in  his  word  speaks  so  frequently  and  so  highly  of  music,  if  in 
sacred  history  it  is  coupled  with  so  many  and  with  such  important  events,  if  it  is 


86  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

the  art  that  goes  with  us  to  heaven  and  that  is  practiced  before  the  throne  of 
Grace,  if  it  is  the  art  which  all  ancient  writers  delighted  to  praise,  and  the  inven- 
tion of  which  they  ascribe  to  the  gods ;  if  music,  like  religion,  is  found  among 
all  tribes  and  nations,  no  matter  how  uncultivated  they  may  be  ;  if  Shakespeare, 
as  if  through  divination,  spoke  in  rapture  of  music's  power,  if  Luther,  the  great 
reformer,  assigns  to  it  a  place  by  the  side  of  theology,  if  the  poets  sing  sweetly 
of  the  art,  if  painters  and  sculptors  have  delighted  in  representing  it,  if  all  right 
feeling  men  love  it  and  yield  to  it,  if  even  the  animal  creation  is  charmed  by  it, 
if  nature  is  full  of  it,  if  man's  heart  seems  to  have  been  made  for  it,  then  one 
may  well  believe  that  God  had  a  great  and  a  wise  purpose  when  he  created  music, 
and  hence  it  is  that  every  serious  musician  seeks  for  something  beyond  the  vibra- 
tions that  produce  the  sweet  sounds. 

What  is  music  ?  If  we  could  tell  as  much  of  it  as  we  feel  when  hearing  it,  we 
might  easily  answer  this  question.  Is  it  an  eternal  sentiment  laid  within  our 
breast,  that  is  aroused  when  sounds  are  produced  ?  or  are  the  sentiments  hidden 
in  the  sounds  ?  or  are  our  hearts  and  the  sounds,  like  opposite  poles,  attracting  one 
another?  Says  Jean  Paul  Richter  :  "  Oh  music,  thou  who  bringest  the  receding 
waves  of  eternity  nearer  to  the  weary  heart  of  man  as  he  stands  upon  the  shores 
and  longs  to  cross  over ;  art  thou  the  evening  breeze  of  this  life  or  the  morning 
air  of  the  future  one  ? ' '  Or,  as  another  put  the  question  :  ' '  Art  thou  a  recollec- 
tion of  Paradise  or  a  foretaste  of  heaven  ?  " 

Who  dares  to  abuse  such  an  art  ?  who  dares  to  belittle  its  powers  ?  He  who 
uses  it  only  for  his  own  glorification,  shows  how  little  he  values  it  as  a  gift  of  God. 
Let  us  study  it  as  a  most  powerful  and  mysterious  gift,  as  an  art  which  is  designed 
to  enhance  the  civilization  of  man.  I  often  think  of  music  as  a  soul-language;  it 
utters  what  words  cannot  express.  Is  it  possible  that  music  shall  be  the  language 
of  heaven,  and  that,  thereby,  our  daily  or  hourly  utterances  become  praise?  No 
matter  what  definition  of  music  we  may  give,  so  much  is  sure,  that  the  essence 
of  the  art  is  love.  It  comes  from  God,  hence  it  leads  back  to  God,  and  its  mission 
here  can  only  be  that  of  peace.  Love  never  rests,  it  forever  moves,  it  constantly 
seeks  new  territory  to  spread  happiness ;  hence,  music,  like  the  Gospel,  is  heard 
everywhere.  Mankind  leans  toward  love,  and  whatever  brings  it  to  us  we  take 
to  our  hearts. 

As  the  love  of  God  is  immeasurably  great,  so  no  one  has  as  yet  fathomed  the 
depth  of  music.  It  is  the  love  language  of  the  soul ;  it  is  the  medium  between 
this  and  the  other  world,  between  the  natural  and  supernatural  We  shall  for 
all  time  continue  to  study  this  language,  for  it  shall  forever  help  to  bring  us  nearer 
to  God.  All  men  need  an  ideal  world,  and  all  men  love  to  wander  therein ; 
religion  and  music  arc  the  portals  that  open  into  this  world.  To  deny  the  ideal 
and  to  live  only  for  the  real  is  the  same  as  denying  religion  and  art. 

Music  cannot  do  what  the  ancient  Grecians  claimed  it  would  do— restore  the 
equilibrium  of  the  soul ;  no  musician  with  a  just  appreciation  of  his  art  will  make 
such  claims  for  it.  Give  the  art  its  proper  place  where  Luther  has  assigned  it, 
namely,  next  to  theology,  and  rational  musicians  are  satisfied. 

The  love  power  speaks  out  of  music,  and  it  is  the  one  force  that  leads  us  all. 
If  it  is  not,  pray  tell  us  what  it  is.  Love  is  the  all-ruling  principle  ;  without  it 
the  true,  the  just,  the  beautiful  are  not  possible.  The  heart  is  the  living  power 


THE  SANCTITY  OF  MUSIC.  87 

in  man,  and  love  is  its  centre ;  it  is  the  motor  of  the  world.  Music  is  love ;  hence 
its  mighty  power.  Love  is  the  source  from  which  emanate  all  great  art  works ; 
they  bring  down  heavenly  love,  peace  on  earth  to  men,  and  so  they  lift  us  up 
again,  for  God's  revelations  shall  not  be  without  their  results.  Often,  when 
listening  to  good  music,  my  heart  becomes  sad,  for  I  see  my  shortcomings,  and 
then  there  is  heard  a  voice  within,  saying :  Rise  and  become  better.  And  hi  a 
like  manner,  when  I  hear  good  music,  I  say :  Oh,  that  it  may  make  my  pupils 
better  men  and  women !  In  view  of  what  has  been  said  of  the  art,  in  view  of  its 
capabilities  and  its  sanctity,  I  repeat  what  I  have  said  before,  that  I  am  most 
happy  in  my  field  of  labor,  and  that  if  I  could  fill  the  highest  offices  on  earth  I 
would  still  say :  Let  me  be  what  I  am,  a  teacher  of  music.  This  love  in  art 
softens  men's  hearts,  but  it  cannot  change  them,  religion  alone  does  this.  Hence, 
an  unloving,  a  selfish  musician,  a  proud,  vainglorious  and  haughty  musician,  is  an 
inconsistent  being,  as  anomalous  as  would  be  a  selfish,  proud  and  haughty  min- 
ister of  the  Gospel  Read  the  lives  of  our  great  musicians  and  notice  how  they 
loved  their  art,  and  how  highly  they  thought  of  its  influences  and  purposes.  They 
had  studied  the  art ;  surely  they  ought  to  know,  in  part  at  least,  what  its  capa- 
bilities are.  Says  Philip  Emanuel  Bach :  "One  of  the  noblest  objects  of  music 
is  the  spread  of  religion  and  the  elevation  of  the  human  soul."  Gliick  said  : 
"The  object  of  music  is  to  soften  men  down  without  injuring  them,  and  to  make 
them  favorable  to  their  surroundings,  without  lowering  them. ' '  Hauptman  says : 
"The  highest  good  of  art  is  not  for  the  connoisseur  or  the  artist,  but  for  all 
mankind."  And  right  here  I  say,  and  that  in  contradiction  to  what  others  have 
claimed,  that  pure  art,  like  religion,  is  for  the  masses,  and  not  for  the  few. 
Marx  says:  "That  the  tendency  of  music  is  to  benefit  the  masses,  and  that  it 
cannot  be  without  its  influence  upon  their  moral  and  spiritual  condition. ' '  Ber- 
lioz says :  "Do  you  think  I  listen  to  music  merely  to  be  pleased ?  The  perfect, 
be  it  expressed  in  the  strangest  sphere,  operates  toward  the  perfect. ' '  Schumann 
said :  "Does  your  music  come  from  within?  Have  you  felt  it?  Be  sure  it  will 
also  affect  others."  Liszt  says:  "Everything  designed  to  purify  the  taste  oper- 
ates upon  the  heart  of  man,  and  the  rules  of  art  give  us  a  better  understanding  of 
the  world's  sentiment."  Ambros  says:  "That  one  is  compelled  to  call  music  a 
moral  power;  it  is  more  than  an  amusement. "  Praetorius  wrote :  "Experience 
teaches  that  music  does  not  remain  where  the  devil  rules,  for  the  wicked  are  not 
worthy  of  the  art." 

"Music,"  says  Beethoven,  "is  the  medium  between  the  spiritual  and  the 
realistic  life. "  This  great  master  always  saw  something  holy  in  his  art,  which 
he  placed  above  philosophy  ;  hence  all  musicians  of  high  attainments  are  opposed 
to  anything  rude,  commonplace,  frivolous  and  enervating  in  art.  Hoffmann 
says :  "  Love  and  music  live  in  each  other  as  head  and  heart."  Another  said  : 
"  Where  there  is  no  heart  there  is  no  music."  When  Handel  was  told  by  his 
sovereign  that  the  performance  of  the  "Messiah  "  had  afforded  him  pleasure,  the 
composer  replied :  "Your  majesty,  I  did  not  intend  to  amuse  or  to  afford  plea- 
sure ;  I  meant  to  make  the  world  better. ' '  But  I  must  cease  giving  quotations. 
There  were  musicians  who  did  not  view  the  Gospel  as  you  and  I  view  it,  although 
they  were  not  without  religious  sentiment ;  they  all  believed  that  the  essence  of 
music  is  love.  Hence  all  great  musicians  were  self-sacrificing  in  their  spirit ;  they 
cherished  an  undying  devotion  to  their  art ;  nothing  calculated  to  enhance  its 


88  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

progress  was  too  difficult  a,  task  for  them  to  undertake.  Most  great  musicians 
had  a  religious  side  to  their  lives.  Look  at  Haydn,  when  the  ideas  ceased  to  flow, 
how  fervently  he  prayed.  Read  Mozart's  letters  and  notice  his  devotion  to 
religion.  On  Beethoven' stable  constantly  laid  a  tablet,  and  upon  it  were  printed 
these  words,  "I  am  He  that  is.  No  one  has  my  veil  uplifted."  Hear 
Handel,  who  tells  us  that  when  he  wrote  "He  was  Despised  and  Rejected," 
he  shed  tears ;  and  when  he  wrote  the  "Hallelujah  Chorus,"  he  thought  he  saw 
the  heavens  open,  with  the  angels  standing  around  the  throne.  Behold  the 
solidity  and  indestructibility  of  Bach's  religion.  Read  what  Weber  wrote  under 
a  picture  or  in  an  album,  saying,  "As  God  wills,"  and  that  right  under  Rossini's 
words,  who  said,  "  As  the  Public  wills."  Feel  the  spirit  of  genuine  piety  that 
fairly  streams  out  of  the  works  of  Palestrina,  Allegri,  Pergolesi,  and  the  older 
Italian  masters.  Behold  Liszt  turning  toward  religion ;  notice  the  religious 
tendencies  of  Mendelssohn's  pure  soul,  as  it  reveals  itself  in  his  oratorios.  What 
good  has  been  done  in  this  world  by  one  such  work  as  the  "Messiah  "  ?  Behold 
how  constantly  our  art  is  coupled  with  works  of  charity  !  How  many  concerts 
in  aid  of  the  suffering  have  been  given  !  Yet,  there  are  men  who  smile  at 
the  powers  of  music  ;  they  make  light  of  its  influence,  nor  will  they  recognize 
the  difficulties  which  the  study  of  the  art  presents.  Music  is  not  a  deception,  it 
is  not  a  creature  of  the  imagination,  it  is  not  a  plaything  or  an  amusement ;  if 
it  were  this  and  nothing  more,  then,  as  has  been  said,  the  art  would  not  deserve 
to  exist,  while  those  who  teach  it  would  lead  the  most  useless  lives  of  any  class 
of  persons.  Take  away  its  religious  basis  and  it  becomes  a  tinkling  bell  ;  what 
Ambros  said  with  so  much  irony  is  true  :  "  Men  who  divest  music  of  its  religious 
element,  and  claim  to  derive  pleasure  from  the  art,  are  like  galvanized  frog-legs. 
There  is  motion  but  no  life.  There  may  be  emotions  but  there  is  no  love.  Music  is 
designed  to  express  the  inner  longing  of  the  soul ;  it  says  in  tones  what  the  mind 
fails  to  utter  in  words.  It  is  heart-language  ;  it  is  a  heavenly  language,  and  he  who 
banishes  heaven  from  his  heart  fails  also  to  fully  comprehend  the  tone  language. ' ' 
Let  me  reiterate  what  has  been  said  :  God  honors  music  in  His  word  ;  it  is  con- 
nected with  most  important  sacred  events.  The  ancient  Grecians  used  it  as  an 
educational  means,  and  sought  to  restore  through  it  the  equilibrium  of  the  soul. 
God  inclined  the  human  heart  to  love  music  ;  yes,  he  placed  the  animal  creation 
under  its  sway.  There  is  not  found  a  nation  or  a  tribe  without  music.  All  the 
great  poets  speak  of  it  in  rapturous  language ;  nature  itself  is  full  of  it ;  it  is  to 
be  the  language  of  the  great  beyond ;  it  is  love,  and  love  only  can  come  from 
God  and  must  lead  to  him  again.  In  view  of  these  facts,  can  music  be  a  mere 
plaything,  a  mere  amusement  ?  If  so,  all  musicians  and  all  lovers  of  the  art  are 
most  cruelly  deceived  by  the  influence  it  exercises.  All  those  that  study  it  waste 
their  time  as  well  as  their  means,  and  the  Koran  is  right  when  it  forbids  the  use 
of  it,  as  weakening  and  injurious  to  man.  Not  only  are  we  all  deceived  by  study- 
ing music,  if  it  be  not  what  it  claims  to  be,  nay,  millions  before  us  have  been 
deceived,  and  among  them  some  of  the  loftiest  minds  and  purest  of  hearts.  No  ! 
Let  us  accept  music  as  a  gift,  a  most  precious  gift  of  God  ;  let  us  study  it  with 
reverence ;  let  us  practice  it  with  humility  and  diligence,  so  that  we  may  catch 
and  drink  in  the  spirit  of  love  which  it  breathes,  which  is  of  God,  and  which  leads 
to  God.  Let  us  bear  in  mind  that  music  is  to  go  with  us  to  heaven,  and  that 
there  we  shall  see  it  in  all  its  glory  and  beauty. 


CHURCH  MUSIC. 


The  history  of  Christian  church  music  begins  with  the  fourth  century.  Doubt- 
less, the  early  Christians  used  either  the  songs  of  Greece  or  India  whenever 
circumstances  permitted  them  to  sing  in  their  worship.  Christ  left  no  directions 
for  the  musical  portion  of  divine  worship,  and,  indeed,  a  peculiar  Christian 
church  music  could  develop  only  in  the  slow  course  of  time.  St.  Ambrose,  who 
lived  in  the  fourth  century,  was  the  first  to  establish  rules,  and  St.  Gregory,  who 
lived  two  centuries  later,  continued  the  good  work.  It  was  he  who  laid  the 
foundation  of  the  present  system  of  Catholic  church  music.  The  masses  of  the 
people  were  musically  uneducated.  Perhaps  the  church  of  Rome  found  it 
difficult  to  teach  the  people  to  sing  ;  perhaps  she  could  not  supply  the  teachers 
needed  ;  perhaps  she  preferred  to  exclude  the  people  from  all  participation  in  the 
musical  part  of  divine  worship ;  whatever  the  reason  may  have  been,  it  is  an 
historic  fact,  that  only  monks,  friars  and  deacons  were  permitted  to  join  in  the 
singing.  In  order  to  establish  uniformity  in  singing,  the  popes  sent  teachers 
throughout  Christendom,  and  whenever  disputes  arose  concerning  the  authen- 
ticity of  a  method,  bishops  and  monasteries  sent  teachers  to  Rome  to  be 
instructed.  Despite  these  earnest  efforts  to  establish  uniformity,  the  music  of 
the  church  from  time  to  time  declined.  A  certain  Cardinal,  when  asked  by  Pope 
Nicholas  (1447)  how  he  liked  the  singing  then  common  in  churches,  said :  "  Me- 
thinks  I  hear  a  herd  of  swine  that  grunt  with  might  and  main,  without  produc- 
ing an  articulate  sound  or  word."  Surely  this  was  severe  criticism,  and  that, 
too,  from  one  high  in  authority  in  the  Catholic  church. 

Observe  that  Rome  established  an  ecclesiastic  church  music.  She  excluded 
the  people  not  only  from  the  pulpit,  but  from  the  choir.  More  than  that,  in 
her  desire  to  keep  the  art  from  evil  tendencies,  she  checked  its  growth,  but  while 
thus  the  art  was  fettered  within  the  church,  it  developed  without.  The  people 
were  fond  of  singing,  and  while  at  an  earlier  period  the  Minnesingers  developed 
song  in  castles  of  knights  and  palaces  of  the  nobles,  the  Meistersingers  at  a  later 
period  spread  song  and  poetry  among  the  common  people,  and  made  the  homes 
of  the  plain  burghers  resound  with  cheerful  music. 

This  was  about  the  musical  condition  of  Germany  when  Luther  entered  upon 
his  work  of  the  Reformation.  The  great  reformer  was  a  musician,  and  as  such 
appreciated  the  benign  influences  of  the  art.  He  calls  it  the  fairest  and  most 
glorious  gift  of  God,  to  which  Satan  is  a  bitter  enemy.  He  said  that  music 
makes  people  more  meek-minded.  He  advocated  the  introduction  of  music  into 
the  public  schools,  and  next  to  theology,  he  gives  the  divine  art  the  highest 
honors.  Luther  only  gradually  loosened  those  bonds  which  tied  the  people  to  the 
Roman  service.  The  first  reform  measure  was  the  introduction  of  the  German 

89 


90  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

language.  He  translated  those  Latin  hymns  which  were  free  from  error,  and 
wrote  others  himself.  In  order  to  provide  new  music  for  his  people  he  intro- 
duced the  popular  melodies  of  the  day.  The  whole  congregation  were  invited  to 
join  in  the  songs  of  the  sanctuary.  Observe  how  Protestantism  in  its  earliest 
development  differed  from  Rome  in  the  rise  of  religious  music.  The  one  had  au 
ecclesiastic  music  with  which  the  people  had  nothing  to  do,  the  other  insisted 
upon  congregational  singing. 

Music  proved  to  be  a  powerful  agent  to  help  along  the  work  of  reformation. 
In  all  ages  and  among  all  nations  great  political  and  religious  upheavals  have 
found  an  expression  La  song.  These  outbursts  are  usually  designed  to  fire  the 
heart  and  to  engender  loyalty  to  a  cause.  Catholic  writers  of  those  days  said  that 
the  people  fairly  sang  themselves  into  Luther's  doctrines,  and  the  Jesuit,  Conzen, 
added  that  more  souls  went  to  destruction  through  Luther's  hymns  and  tunes, 
than  through  his  doctrines. 

It  was  but  natural  that  the  want  of  a  hymn-book  should  make  itself  felt.  This 
want  was  supplied  in  1524,  when  a  little  pamphlet  appeared  containing  but  eight 
hymns  and  five  tunes.  The  next  edition,  which  appeared  in  1525,  had  16  hymns, 
and  the  book,  as  published  in  1545,  contained  not  less  than  89  hymns.  Luther 
not  only  used  many  popular  tunes,  but  he  converted  popular  songs  to  religious 
uses.  Aside  from  this  he  drew  largely  upon  the  Bohemian  or  Moravian  church- 
music  collection.  Luther's  agents  and  missionaries  traveled  all  over  Germany 
selling  and  giving  away  the  new  hymn-  and  tune-books.  These  often  became 
popular  before  a  Lutheran  preacher  had  addressed  the  people.  Thus  song  con- 
veyed the  seeds  of  the  gospel  and  spread  the  spirit  of  the  Reformation.  These 
song-peddlers,  as  they  were  called,  were  often  arrested,  but  where  one  was  put 
into  jail  ten  others  were  ready  to  take  his  place. 

Luther  and  his  co-laborers  were  nobly  aided  in  their  work  of  providing  new 
hymns  and  music.  These  often  were  mere  chance  productions.  An  organist,  for 
instance,  took  sick,  and  his  pastor  wrote  a  hymn  as  a  word  of  consolation,  and, 
after  the  organist  had  recovered,  he  set  it  to  music.  This  is  the  simple  origin  of 
that  celebrated  hymn  and  choral,  "  What  God  does,  that  is  well  done." 

Both  hyains  and  tunes  of  that  period  are  very  different  from  those  of  modern 
times.  The  latter  appear  weak,  yes,  often  insignificant,  when  compared  with  the 
church  music  of  the  reformation  time.  The  tunes  and  hymns  that  were  produced 
during  Luther's  time,  and  for  a  century  afterward,  must  be  called  heroic;  they 
have  about  them  a  solemn  grandeur,  like  the  men  and  the  times  from  whence 
they  sprang.  The  Reformation  was  not  only  an  outburst  of  thought,  but  also 
one  of  song.  God's  spirit  was  moving  the  masses,  the  Bible  was  unchained,  the 
shackles  of  centuries  were  loosened,  and  the  days  of  religious  freedom  began  to 
dawn, — religious  freedom  which  is  the  necessary  precursor  of  political  freedom. 
Who  could  keep  from  singing  at  such  a  time  !  What  poet,  what  musician  was 
there,  who,  when  breathing  the  spirit  of  his  times,  could  fail  to  produce  a  new 
hymn  or  a  new  tune  ?  When  the  heart  is  full  of  religious  fervor,  the  lips  will 
overflow  with  religious  song.  These  hymns  and  tunes  sprang  from  a  genuine 
religious  spirit ;  hence  they  live  to  this  day,  and  if  Protestant  churches  do  not 
admire  them,  sensible  musicians  do.  Over  2000  hymns  and  tunes  have  been  col- 
lected from  the  first  century  after  the  Reformation.  With  the  sad  scenes  of  the 


CHURCH  MUSIC.  91 

Thirty  Years'  War  this  activity  ceased,  and  as  all  standing  still  in  moral  and  reli- 
gious life  generally  leads  to  a  retrograde  movement,  we  may  well  say  that  the 
decline  of  German  hymnology  dates  from  that  period. 

Although  I  am  writing  on  the  subject  of  Protestant  church  music,  I  am, 
nevertheless,  under  the  necessity  of  saying  a  few  words  about  the  music  of  Rome. 
The  Catholic  church  was  friendly  to  the  cultivation  of  arts,  but  because  the 
Catholic  church  is  charged  with  errors,  the  arts,  especially  music,  need  not 
be  suspected  of  vicious  influences. 

As  Germany's  best  Protestant  church  music  was  written  during  the  century 
succeeding  the  Reformation,  so  also  was  the  best  Catholic  church  music  written 
during  the  same  period.  I  need  but  mention  one  Italian  master  of  the  16th 
century  whom  Protestant  musicians  admire  as  much  as  Catholics  possibly  can — 
I  mean  Palestrina.  But  this  leads  me  too  far.  It  has  been  said  that  the 
Catholic  church  did  more  for  the  arts  than  for  religion,  just  as  Cardinal  Wolsey 
did  more  for  his  king  than  for  his  God.  The  modern  Catholic  church  music  is 
grand,  highly  artistic,  and  often  dramatic.  It  affects  the  listener  as  if  it  were 
coming  from  an  angelic  choir  above.  It  is,  therefore,  in  the  main  inspiring  ;  it  is 
designed  to  draw  the  listener  into  the  presence  of  God,  Protestant  church  music 
is  plainer,  less  pretentious,  but  more  vigorous.  It  has  less  of  an  art  tinge  and 
more  of  a  popular  character.  It  is  not  designed  to  be  a  means  of  drawing 
worshipers  into  the  presence  of  God,  but  should  call  praise  from  their  lips  to 
the  throne  of  grace.  The  Bible  more  often  bids  us  praise  than  pray.  Are  there 
any  among  you  who  excuse  themselves  from  singing,  by  saying  :  "  I  am  musically 
uneducated,  I  cannot  sing."  If  so,  let  me  ask  whether  you  would  refuse  to  pray 
because  you  are  not  a  scholar,  and  are  not  educated  enough  to  use  the  best 
language.  God  hears  the  humblest  prayer  of  the  humblest  man  that  kneels  in 
his  cabin  to  supplicate  his  Father.  Yet  that  prayer  may  be  far  more  effective 
than  hundreds  of  petitions  offered  by  those  who  know  how  to  use  elegant 
language.  So  God  will  hear  your  songs  of  praise,  be  they  ever  so  humble,  for 
God  looks  to  the  heart  first  and  then  to  the  voice. 

Rome  has  ever  been  the  centre  toward  which  a  world  contributed  her  wealth. 
She  was,  therefore,  rich  and  well  able  to  cultivate  the  arts.  Germany,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  poor,  her  climate  was  rougher,  she  lacked  those  refining  influences 
which  Italy  enjoyed  for  centuries  before  Germany  became  christianized.  It  was, 
therefore,  but  natural  that  Italy  should  have  been  in  advance  of  Germany  hi  the 
cultivation  of  the  arts.  Poor  Germany  was  afflicted  with  wars  and  political  com- 
motions. Foes  from  without  and  within  assailed  her.  Germany  is  the  geographical 
centre,  the  heart  of  Europe,  and  owing  to  her  peculiar  situation  she  quickly  feels 
the  slightest  tremor  of  any  part  of  the  continent.  She  was  chosen  by  God  to 
stand  the  shock  of  the  Reformation,  and  bravely  she  stood  it.  That  music  did  not 
flourish  during  the  Thirty  Years'  War  is  but  natural ;  but  when  peace  returned, 
and  the  poor  land  ceased  to  bleed  from  its  many  wounds,  art  began  to  flourish 
again.  There  arose  two  great  men  who  laid  the  foundation  for  all  future  German 
musical  art,  namely,  Bach  and  Handel.  They  were  sturdy  Protestants,  and  thus  it 
may  be  said  that  German  art  rests  upon  the  spirit  of  Protestantism.  Italian  church 
music  is  found  only  in  Rome.  France  has  really  no  church  music  that  is  deserving 
of  the  name ;  German  Protestant  music  is  found  everywhere  in  that  country. 


92  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

During  the  last  century,  Lutheran  church  music  underwent  a  process  of 
modernizing ;  the  chorals  were  changed  from  the  church  modes  to  the  modern 
major  and  minor  keys  ;  the  language  of  the  hymns  was  softened,  but  both  hymn 
and  tune  suffered  in  their  spiritual  character.  The  spirit  of  rationalism  now 
made  its  influence  felt,  both  in  the  pulpit  and  in  the  choir ;  worldly  music  was 
heard  and  purely  metaphysical  sermons  were  preached.  And  again  the  hand  of 
affliction  was  laid  upon  Germany ;  the  land  was  again  invaded  by  the  old  enemy ; 
but,  when  peace  was  restored,  William  HI,  King  of  Prussia,  took  vigorous  steps 
toward  a  revival  of  religion,  and  this  work  was  begun  with  a  process  of  purifying 
Protestant  church  music.  Germany  still  adheres  to  congregational  singing. 

Despite  German  rationalism,  we  may  still  go  to  Germany  for  our  best  works  on 
Protestant  theology.  All  the  English-speaking  people  of  the  globe  have  pro- 
duced but  about  5000  hymns,  while  Germany  alone  has  enriched  sacred  literature 
with  80,000  of  them.  If  it  be  true  that  the  lips  run  over  with  what  the  heart 
is  filled,  no  one  dare  to  deny  that  Germany  at  one  time  was  eminently  a  religious 
country,  and  if  she  is  no  longer  that,  the  sin  must  be  laid  to  the  charge  of  her 
ministers,  who  first  forsook  the  truth. 

France. — The  Reformers  found  a  rich  storehouse  of  music  and  hymnology  in 
the  Bohemian  collection  of  church  music.  The  Bohemians  sang  in  their  native 
tongue,  and  practiced  congregational  singing  long  before  the  Reformation.  While 
Lutheran  church  music  was  set  to  harmony,  that  of  the  Bohemian  book  was  not. 
The  tunes  were  to  be  sung  in  unison.  The  Jesuits  have  had  a  special  dislike  to 
this  book,  and  so  persistent  have  they  been  in  the  work  of  its  destruction  that 
but  very  few  original  copies  are  left  us.  Wherever  Moravians  sing,  be  it  among 
the  Indians,  the  Hottentots,  or  in  the  snow-covered  huts  of  the  Esquimaux,  they 
use  to  this  day  the  same  grand  old  tunes  and  hymns.  More  than  once,  while 
traveling  in  Pennsylvania,  have  I  visited  their  churches,  and  have  listened  with 
delight  to  their  singing,  but  I  am  also  sorry  to  say  that  the  youth  of  that  church 
are  opposed  to  these  jewels,  and  seek  to  exchange  them  for  "  Sweet-By-and- 
By,"  "Hold  the  Fort,"  etc.  Of  this  style  of  church  music  I  shall,  however, 
speak  more  fully. 

The  third  and  fourth  styles  of  church  music,  namely,  the  Episcopalian  and 
Calvinistic,  I  will  treat  in  connection  with  each  other,  because  in  England  they 
developed  side  by  side,  and  because  a  great  deal  of  English  history  is  closely  con- 
nected with  the  development  of  English  church  music.  The  history  of  the  Calvin- 
istic mode  of  singing  reaches  into  all  countries  where  Protestantism  has  gained 
a  foothold ;  yes,  it  reaches  even  into  our  present  time.  Lutheran  church  music 
was  more  or  less  without  centralization,  that  is,  different  cities  and  countries  had 
their  own  hymns  and  tune-books.  The  music  of  the  Reformed  churches,  how- 
ever, was  everywhere  the  same.  The  Calvinists  at  Geneva,  at  Cassel  and  Frank- 
fort used  the  same  tunes.  Calvin  differed  more  radically  from  Rome  than  did 
Luther,  and,  inasmuch  as  the  Catholic  church  was  much  given  to  the  cultivation 
of  the  arts,  the  early  Calvinists  were  hostile  to  them.  They  stripped  their  churches 
of  everything  that  reminded  them  of  Rome,  and  in  doing  this  they  at  times 
went  to  extremes.  What  if  they  sang  a  Psalm  before  they  began  the  work  of 
destruction  in  the  Cathedral  at  Antwerp,  such  work  cannot  be  called  sanctified. 
It  is,  however,  a  noteworthy  fact,  that  while  pictures  and  statues  were  excluded 


CHURCH  MUSIC.  93 

from  churches,  the  most  rigid  Calvinists  finally  retained  music.  Still,  the  church 
organ  question  is  now,  as  it  has  been  in  the  past,  one  of  dispute  in  Calvinistic 
churches,  and  there  is  no  telling  when  it  will  be  settled.  When  speaking  of 
Calvinistic  church  music,  Psalmody  deserves  our  first  attention.  Psalmody  is  of 
German  origin — I  mean  thereby  the  singing  of  Psalms  in  their  metrical  form. 
It  is  claimed  that  Huss  and  Wycliffe  sang  Psalms,  but  there  is  no  good  evidence 
of  this  assertion.  The  Psalms,  of  course,  were  chanted  in  synagogues  and  in  the 
Catholic  church,  but  the  one  used  them  in  Hebrew,  the  other  in  Latin.  Luther 
translated  a  number  of  the  Psalms,  and  sang  them  in  his  family  worship  and  at 
social  gatherings,  but  not  in  public  worship.  He  often  expressed  the  wish  that 
some  one  might  continue  the  good  work  he  had  begun.  Suddenly  there  appeared 
a  translation  of  fifty  Psalms  into  French.  The  work  was  done  by  Clement  Marot, 
and  the  first  edition  appeared  in  1540.  The  work  of  translation  was  afterward 
completed  by  Theodore  Beza,  who  five  years  later,  in  1545,  caused;  a  complete 
translation  of  the  Psalms  to  appear  in  print.  It  was  first  believed  that  these 
Psalms  would  morally  revolutionize  the  realm,  for  they  became  at  once  very 
popular,  so  much  so  that  they  were  heard  in  the  streets  of  Paris.  The  king,  queen, 
and,  in  fact,  all  his  courtiers  had  their  favorite  psalms,  which  they  sang  to  common 
ballad  tunes,  and  which  were  heard  on  all,  yes,  even  the  most  trivial,  occasions. 
Thus,  when  the  Dauphin  went  out  on  the  chase,  he  paused  for  a  moment  under 
the  window  of  his  favorite  Diana  de  Poitiers  and  sang,  "  As  the  hart  panteth 
after  the  water-brooks,"  etc.,  and  when  he  returned  his  mistress  came  to  the 
balcony  and  welcomed  him  by  singing,  "Out  of  the  depths  have  I  cried  unto 
Thee. ' '  Of  Madame  Valentinois  it  is  said  that  she  sang  the  thirtieth  Psalm  while 
she  danced.  In  England  the  Psalms  were  roared  out  at  the  Lord  Mayor's  dinner, 
and  that  by  men  heated  by  wine.  How  common  the  singing  of  Psalms  to  dance 
tunes  was  may  be  seen  from  a  line  in  Shakespeare's  "  Winter  Tales,"  which  reads 
thus :  "There  is  but  one  Puritan  amongst  them,  and  he  sings  Psalms  to  horn- 
pipes." 

Calvin  determined  to  use  these  Psalms  in  his  churches,  and  gave  orders  that 
they  be  sung  in  unison  by  the  whole  congregation. 

When  it  became  known  that  Calvin  had  adopted  the  Psalms  to  be  used  in  the 
regular  service  of  the  reformed  churches,  Catholics  at  once  abstained  from  using 
them,  and  Psalm-singing  henceforth  became  a  synonym  of  heresy. 

Let  us  now  turn  our  attention  to  England.  When  King  Henry  VHI  deter- 
mined to  emancipate  England  from  Rome,  he  aimed  quite  as  much  to  emancipate 
himself,  and  in  his  reformatory  work  he  was  at  times  guided  just  as  much  by 
passion  as  by  reason.  He  who  defended  the  faith  against  Luther  now  followed 
in  the  footsteps  of  that  great  reformer,  and  like  him,  began  by  introducing  the 
language  of  the  country  into  the  church  service.  Henry  VIII  and  Edward  and 
Elizabeth  were  all  great  lovers  of  music,  and  they  did  all  in  their  power  to  make 
the  Episcopal  church  service  brilliant  and  impressive.  Edward  VI  continued  the 
work  of  reformation,  and  during  his  reign  the  entire  Liturgy  of  the  English 
Episcopal  church,  together  with  the  Book  of  Prayer  were  perfected  (1552).  All 
Catholic  missals,  breviaries  and  church  music-books  were  then  gathered  and 
destroyed.  This  took  place  in  1560.  Despite  the  fact  that  the  English  service 
was  sanctioned  by  law,  many  were  opposed  to  it,  and  a  struggle  ensued  which 


94  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

lasted  nearly  a  century.  Psalmody  was  one  of  the  principal  points  upon  which 
this  struggle  turned.  The  oldest  translation  of  the  Psalms  into  English  is  that 
by  Coverdale.  It  was  followed  by  another,  prepared  by  Sternhold  and  Hop- 
kins, 1549.  In  1562  these  Psalms  were  supplied  with  suitable  music,  which 
was  mostly  borrowed  from  Germany.  These  Psalms  were  bound  in  with  the 
Prayer  Book,  and,  in  order  to  please  the  Dissenters,  were  allowed  to  be  sung  in 
public  worship.  These  tunes  were  set  to  harmony  after  the  Lutheran  and  Episco- 
pal style  of  music.  During  the  reign  of  Queen  Mary,  Psalm-singing  was  not  a 
safe  mode  of  worship ;  many  Christians  died  bearing  witness  to  their  faith,  while 
others  fled  to  Cassel,  Frankfort,  Geneva  and  other  cities,  where  they  became 
acquainted  with  the  style  of  singing  practiced  in  Reformed  churches,  which  style 
was  afterward  designated  the  Geneva  style  of  singing.  When  Elizabeth  ascended 
the  throne,  the  Episcopal  church  service  was  reestablished  in  all  its  splendor.  In 
1559  she  published  her  sentiments  in  decrees,  and  twice  during  her  reign  was  the 
church  service  sanctioned  by  law.  The  Dissenters  who  had  to  flee  during  Queen 
Mary's  reign  now  returned,  and  at  once  began  the  work  of  agitation  against  the 
regular  service,  and  in  favor  of  the  Geneva  style  of  singing.  They  insisted  upon 
it,  that  plain  Psalmody  was  best  adapted  to  the  praise  of  God.  Being  men  of 
great  persistence,  they  gave  the  virgin  Queen  much  trouble,  and  it  required  all 
her  firmness  to  keep  these  "meddlers,"  as  they  were  called  by  Episcopalians,  in 
check. 

Now  let  us  hear  what  critics  have  to  say  about  this  Geneva  style  of  singing. 
Reports  do  not  agree.  One  writer  says  that  the  Psalms  sounded  grand ;  another 
tells  us  that  they  were  wretchedly  sung.  Of  course,  due  allowance  must  be  made 
in  accepting  these  criticisms,  for  the  Cavaliers  hated  Psalmody  as  cordially  as  the 
Dissenters  hated  the  regular  service.  Both  sides  were  determined  not  to  yield, 
and  each  did  what  it  could  to  advance  its  own  views. 

During  the  persecution  of  the  Duke  of  Alva  hi  Flanders,  many  reformers 
had  to  flee  from  that  country,  and  they  generally  turned  their  faces  toward 
England.  These  exiles  were  all  Psahn  singers,  who  added  greatly  to  the  strength 
of  the  Puritans  in  England.  Many  of  them  were  weavers  ;  men  who  were  also 
well  skilled  in  music.  They  were  known  all  over  England,  and  Shakespeare,  in  his 
"Sir  John  Falstaff,"  speaks  of  them  in  these  words  :  "I  would  I  were  a  weaver, 
then  I  could  sing  Psalms."  It  is  claimed  that  the  descendants  of  these  weavers 
are  to  this  day  among  the  best  singers  in  England. 

How  sad  it  is  that  men  had  to  fight  for  religious  liberty !  How  slow  the  world 
was  in  recognizing  the  fact  that  neither  powder  nor  the  flames  could  conquer  a 
man's  religious  convictions.  Men  may  bow  before  a  hat,  or  submit  to  oppressive 
laws  in  order  to  save  life  and  property,  but  a  Christian  never  yields  to  what  he 
conceives  to  be  error.  Whatever  may  be  said  against  these  men,  this  much  is 
sure,  that  their  courage  deserves  our  admiration,  for  they  fought  out  the  battles 
for  religious  liberty.  Through  these  struggles  they  established  principles,  they 
infused  a  spirit  of  independence  which  can  never  be  crushed  ;  and  this  is  the  true 
spirit  of  Protestantism,  the  right  to  protest,  the  right  of  liberty  in  matters  of 
religion. 

The  struggle  in  behalf  of  Psalmody  gradually  became  general.  Sermons  were 
preached  and  lectures  delivered,  and  even  such  noted  men  as  Dr.  Whitgift, 


CHURCH  MUSIC.  95 

Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  went  so  far  as  to  challenge  Thomas  Cart-wright  to  a 
public  debate.  The  Puritans  became  bolder  with  every  success,  and  finally  pe- 
titioned Parliament  "to  put  down  all  cathedrals  where  the  service  of  God  is 
grievously  abused  by  piping  with  organs,  singing  and  ringing  and  drawling  of 
Psalms  from  one  side  of  the  choir  to  another,  with  the  squeaking  of  chanting 
choristers,  disguised  in  white  surplices,  some  in  corner  caps  and  filly  copes,  imi- 
tating the  fashion  and  manner  of  Antichrist  the  Pope,  that  man  of  sin  and  child 
of  perdition,  with  his  other  rabble  of  miscreants  and  shavelings."  This  was 
indeed  bold  language  to  lay  before  the  highest  tribunal  of  the  church  and  the 
country. 

The  Episcopal  style  of  singing  was  then  by  the  Puritans  called  "  curious  style 
of  singing,  heathenish  in  its  tendency  and  belonging  to  Rome. ' '  With  the  acces- 
sion of  strength  by  the  Puritans,  Psalm  books  also  increased  in  number.  The 
most  popular  one  then  in  use  was  that  published  by  Ainsworth,  1612.  This  is  the 
book  which  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  brought  with  them  to  this  country.  The  poetry 
of  this  book,  if  such  it  deserves  to  be  called,  is  simply  execrable.  Let  me  give 
you  a  few  specimens  : — 

"Why  dost  withdraw  thy  hand  aback 

And  hide  it  in  thy  lappe, 
Oh  pluck  it  out,  and  be  not  slack 
To  give  thy  foes  a  rappe." 

In  another  place  we  read — 

"  For  why  their  hearts  were  nothing  bent 
To  God  nor  to  his  trade." 

Further  on  we  read — 

"Nor  how  he  commit  their  fruit 
Unto  the  catterpiller, 
And  all  the  labor  of  their  hands 
He  gave  to  the  grasshopper." 

One  more  quotation,  and  I  will  pass  on  with  my  paper : — 

"  Confound  them  all  that  do  apply, 

And  seek  to  work  me  shame, 
And  at  my  harm  do  laugh  and  cry, 
And  say,  there  goes  the  game." 

Playford,  in  his  Psalm  book  of  1677,  says  that  the  piety  of  these  people  exceeded 
their  poetry,  and  he  was  mild  in  his  criticism. 

During  the  turbulent  times  of  King  Charles  I,  singing  degenerated.  The 
clerks,  who  were  appointed  by  government  to  take  charge  of  music  in  the  church, 
became  licentious.  Says  an  Episcopal  writer :  "They  are  bad  company,  and  yet 
a  society  of  good  fellows.  They  were  deep  in  the  choir  and  still  deeper  in  taverns. 
Their  pastime  and  recreation  is  prayer,  but  their  exercise  is  drinking.  So  griev- 
ously are  they  addicted  to  this  vice,  that  they  serve  God  oftener  when  drunk." 
Was  it  a  wonder  that  Puritans  hated  the  very  church  service  that  was  sung  by 
such  musicians  ?  The  English  Puritans  might  eventually  have  yielded,  but  when 


96  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

King  Charles  I  attempted  to  introduce  the  Episcopal  liturgy  in  Scotland,  lie 
undertook  more  than  he  could  accomplish.  They  took  up  arms  and  came  across 
the  borders.  A  Scotchman  is  an  unyielding  sort  of  a  being.  It  is  said  that  you 
cannot  break  him.  Though  you  roll  him,  twist  him  and  double  him  up,  yet  will 
he  strike  an  attitude  for  a  fight,  when  you  think  you  have  him  completely  in  your 
power.  King  Charles  at  first  attempted  to  persuade  the  Scotch  to  accept  peace- 
ably the  new  order  of  things.  He  gave  them  new  tunes  which  were  called  after 
Scottish  cities  and  towns,  in  order  to  flatter  them,  but  the  good  people  of  Cale- 
donia would  not  accept  of  King  Charles'  new  tunes,  even  if  they  were  called 
Glasgow,  Dundee,  etc.  They  preferred  to  fight,  and  being  a  brave  people  they 
at  last  conquered.  When  they  had  the  King  in  their  possession,  a  Scottish  min- 
ister boldly  preached  a  sermon  at  him,  after  which  he  gave  out  the  52d  Psalm, 
which  begins  thus : — 

"  Why  dost  thou  tyrant  boast  thyself  thy  wicked  works  to  praise?" 

Such  a  hint  a  King  of  England  had  never  before  received.  He  could  not  endure 
such  an  insult,  and  therefore  demanded  that  the  56th  Psalm  be  given  out,  which 
begins  thus : — 

"  Have  mercy,  Lord,  for  me,  I  pray, 
For  men  would  me  devour," 

which  Psalm  the  people  sang.  But  I  need  not  relate  here  the  end  of  this  sad 
struggle,  for  you  ah1  know  the  fate  of  King  Charles  L 

The  Dissenters,  who  had  for  so  many  years  asked  for  simpler  forms  of  worship, 
now  took  matters  into  their  own  hands.  In  1644  they  passed  a  law  authorizing 
the  destruction  of  organs,  Episcopal  music-books,  painted  windows,  in  fact  of  every 
thing  that  reminded  them  of  the  Episcopacy.  Especially  severe  were  they  against 
organs,  those  "instruments  of  the  devil  and  the  Pope,"  as  they  were  called. 
Cromwell,  however,  had  the  pretty  organ  of  St.  Magdalen's  Chapel  taken  to 
Hampton  Court,  where  he  privately  enjoyed  its  sweet  tones.  Organists  and  clerks 
had  to  flee,  and  Psalmody  became  the  established  mode  of  singing. 

After  the  return  of  Charles  II,  psalm-singing  was  again  somewhat  subdued. 
This  monarch,  upon  his  return  to  England,  at  once  began  to  gather  the  remnants 
of  the  cathedral  service.  There  was  great  need  of  books  and  music,  great  need 
of  organists  as  well  as  organs.  Old  organists  had  died,  others  had  fled  the  coun- 
try, and  the  few  that  were  still  found  could  not  agree  as  to  how  the  service  should 
be  played  and  sung.  In  this  dilemma  Charles  II  called  many  musicians  from 
France,  for  he  was  fond  of  the  music  of  that  country.  This,  of  course,  gave 
offence  to  English  musicians,  and  in  order  to  get  these  foreigners  out  of  the  coun- 
try, English  musicians  went  diligently  to  work ;  they  studied  hard,  until  at  last 
the  old  order  of  things  was  reestablished.  Since  that  time  the  service  of  the 
Episcopal  Church  has  remained  fixed.  New  Te  Deums  and  Gloria  Patris  have 
been  and  are  being  written,  but  the  service  is  the  same  to-day  that  it  was  in  King 
Charles'  times.  The  two  parties  have  ceased  to  war  and  fight,  for  the  Episcopa- 
lians allow  the  Puritans  to  sing  psalms,  while  the  latter  are  willing  that  the 
Established  Church  should  toss  the  psalms  from  one  side  of  the  church  to  the 
other. 


CHURCH  MUSIC.  97 

A  good  old  Caledonian  of  the  free  kirk  of  Scotland  came  to  this  country  and 
settled  somewhere  in  Illinois.  The  Presbyterians  of  that  place  were  building  a 
new  church,  and  Sandy  took  a  lively  interest  in  it.  One  day,  while  attending  a 
congregational  business  meeting,  the  question  of  procuring  chandeliers  came  up 
for  discussion.  Our  Scotchman,  having  but  recently  come  from  a  little  church 
in  the  Highlands,  knew  nothing  about  chandeliers,  for  there  were  no  such  things 
known  in  his  church.  With  genuine  Scotch  caution  he  suspected  at  once  that 
it  was  some  sort  of  a  musical  instrument  they  were  talking  about,  and  being 
bitterly  opposed  to  the  "wistling  kist,"  he  arose  and  gravely  said:  "Well, 
and  what  if  you  do  get  a  chandelier,  there  is  no  one  in  this  church  who  can  play 
on  it." 

With  a  few  remarks  about  Calvinistic  churches  and  their  music  in  Scotland  and 
Ireland,  I  will  leave  the  old  country  and  trace  out  the  history  of  church  music. 
All  churches  stand  alike  before  the  law.  Organs  have  of  late  been  introduced  in 
Established  churches  whenever  people  have  desired  to  use  them.  I  am,  however, 
unable  to  mention  a  single  instance  where  an  organ  has  been  admitted  into  a  free 
kirk.  Still  the  law  permits  them  to  use  organs,  if  they  wish  to  introduce  them. 
Psalms,  paraphrases,  and  even  hymns  are  used.  Throughout  Scotch  rural  dis- 
tricts, however,  Psalmody  without  the  use  of  organs  is  the  general  mode  of  wor- 
ship ;  yes,  even  in  larger  towns  organs  are  the  exception.  The  Irish  church,  at 
the  time  of  the  union  of  the  Secession  Church  and  the  Synod  of  Ulster,  recog- 
nized Rouse's  version.  Some  congregations  in  the  Synod  of  Ulster  had  used 
paraphrases  in  addition  to  the  Psalms,  hence  these  churches  were  allowed  to  con- 
tinue their  use,  but  none  others  were  to  follow  their  example.  Melodeons  found 
their  way  into  Sunday  schools,  and  finally  also  into  churches,  which  led  to  much 
controversy.  When  the  question  came  before  the  Assembly,  there  was  a  tie  vote. 
The  Moderator  refused  to  vote,  the  matter  was  dropped,  and  a  resolution  was 
passed  that  vigorous  efforts  should  be  adopted  to  improve  congregational  singing. 

The  English  Presbyterian  church  uses  an  excellent  collection  of  hymns  with 
Rouse's  version.  They  have  chanting  in  their  churches,  a  mode  of  singing  which 
the  people  like  very  much.  Thus  we  see  law  and  order  prevailing  everywhere, 
and  so  we  will  leave  Europe  and  come  to  America. 

When  speaking  of  the  history  of  American  church  music,  we  must  turn  our 
attention  to  New  England.  The  Pilgrim  Fathers  naturally  enough  introduced  the 
customs  prevalent  in  the  Independent  churches  in  which  they  worshiped  in 
England.  As  has  already  been  stated,  they  brought  with  them  Ainsworth's 
collection  of  music,  which  they  used  until  1640,  while  a  few  churches  retained  it 
until  1682.  The  reason  they  gave  up  their  old  friend  was  owing  to  the  fact  that 
in  1640  the  first  music  book  ever  published  in  this  country  left  the  press.  This 
was  called  the  "Bay  Psalm  Book,"  which  became  a  general  favorite;  so  much  so 
that  it  passed  through  many  editions,  and  was  used  in  Scotland  as  late  as  1776. 
The  versification  of  this  book  is  simply  horrible.  Thus  we  read : — 

"  Yah  is  my  strength  and  song, 

And  he  is  my  salvation, 
He  is  my  God  and  I'll  prepare 
For  him  a  habitation." 


98  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

As  a  specimen  of  a  spiritual  song,  I  will  quote  the  following  :— 

"  Jael  the  Kenite,  Heber's  wife, 
'Bove  women  blessed  shall  be, 
Above  the  women  in  the  tent 
A  blessed  one  is  she. 
He  water  asked,  she  gave  him  milk  ; 
In  lordly  dish  she  fetched 
Him  butter  forth  ;  unto  the  nail 
She  forth  her  left  hand  stretched, 
Her  right  hand  to  the  workman's  maul, 
And  Sisera  hammered ; 
She  pierced  and  struck  his  temples  through, 
And  then  cut  off  his  head. 
He  at  her  feet  bowed,  fell,  lay  down, 
He  at  her  feet  bowed  where 
He  fell,  whereas  he  bowed  down, 
He  fell  destroyed  there." 

Comment*  are  needless.  A.fac-simile  of  this  book  was  published  in  1862.  It 
is  prefaced  by  an  argument,  showing  forth  the  lawfulness  of  singing  Psalms. 
It  deals  with  the  question  as  to  how  Psalms  ought  to  be  sung,  whether  in  prose 
or  in  meter,  and  who  should  sing  them.  This  book  passed  through  not  less  than 
seventy  editions,  the  last  of  which  appeared  three  years  before  the  Declaration 
of  Independence.  In  the  ninth  edition  (1696)  there  appeared  a  few  tunes,  the 
first  music  ever  printed  in  this  country.  These  tunes  have  only  the  air  and  the 
bass,  and  directions  are  given  as  to  "  how  to  set  them  within  the  compass  of  the 
voice,  so  as  to  avoid  squeaking  above  or  grumbling  below." 

For  sixty  years  after  the  formation  of  the  first  New  England  churches  only 
about  ten  tunes  were  used,  and  this  small  number,  at  a  later  period,  was  even 
reduced  to  six.  They  were  Oxford,  York,  Lichfield,  Windsor,  St.  David's  and 
Martyrs.  Every  one  of  these  tunes  was  copied  in  the  worshipers'  Bibles ;  later, 
as  I  said,  they  were  printed  in  song  books. 

The  Pilgrim  Fathers  appreciated  music,  not  music  in  our  sense,  but  their  church 
tunes.  They  were  taught  in  public  schools,  and  children  were  early  trained  to 
reverence  them.  Whenever  they  sang  in  church  the  congregation  arose,  and 
when  hearing  one  of  them  sung  on  the  street  they  took  off  their  hats.  Though 
their  singing  on  Sundays  often  occupied  a  half  hour,  old  and  young  would  remain 
standing  until  that  part  of  divine  worship  was  concluded.  The  Psalms  were  sung 
in  regular  rotation,  without  regard  to  the  subject  of  the  preacher's  discourse.  In 
consequence  of  the  long-continued  use  of  these  tunes  they  were  regarded  as 
inspired ;  hence,  the  opposition  to  the  introduction  of  new  ones. 

John  Cotton,  of  Boston,  in  his  constitution  of  the  church,  published  in  London 
in  1642,  two  years  after  the  "  Bay  Psalm  Book  "  had  appeared,  defends  congre- 
gational singing.  Two  years  later  he  wrote  another  book,  entitled  "  Singing  of 
Psalms  a  Gospel  Ordinance."  An  unsettled  state  of  things  had  made  itself  felt, 
for  there  were  many  who  had  scruples  about  singing  at  any  time,  while  others 
were  bitterly  opposed  to  all  musical  improvements,  especially  to  the  introduction 


CHURCH  MUSIC.  99 

of  new  tunes.  Many  Nonconformist  churches  had  to  meet  secretly,  and,  in  order 
to  avoid  being  detected,  they  had  to  dispense  with  singing.  Thus  they  acquired 
a  habit  of  worshiping  without  music,  and  finally  took  a  dislike  to  it.  An  instance 
is  mentioned  of  a  congregation  which,  after  deliberating  for  years,  agreed  to  sing 
once  on  communion  day,  but  not  regularly  on  Sundays.  After  six  years  of 
further  deliberation  they  agreed  to  sing  on  Thanksgiving  Day.  Fourteen  years 
later  they  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  they  would  not  sin  by  singing  once  on  a 
Sabbath ;  but,  so  as  not  to  give  offence  to  those  who  were  opposed,  singing  should 
only  be  indulged  in  after  the  last  prayer,  when  the  objecting  portion  might  leave. 
But,  to  reach  the  climax,  a  portion  of  this  congregation  seceded,  and  worshiped 
twenty  years  longer  without  singing. 

Many  objections  were  raised  against  what  was  then  called  regular  singing. 
These  may,  in  part,  have  sprung  from  prejudices,  but  they  generally  were  based 
upon  conscientious  convictions.  It  was  the  opinion  of  some  that  Christians  should 
not  sing  with  their  lips,  but  simply  with  their  hearts.  Others  considered  it  sinful 
to  sing  Psalms,  inasmuch  as  we  had  no  longer  King  David's  music.  Still  others 
claimed  that  Psalms  should  be  sung  in  prose,  while  their  opponents  were  in  favor 
of  singing  them  in  meter.  Some  permitted  the  use  of  hymns,  others  pronounced 
them  as  sinful.  Many  were  of  the  opinion  that  only  one  should  sing,  while  the 
congregation  were  to  join  by  singing  Amen.  It  was  also  a  vexatious  question 
whether  men  alone  or  also  women  should  sing  in  church,  and  whether  only  Chris- 
tians or  also  carnal  men  might  join  in  this  exercise.  Surely  there  were  enough 
questions  for  debates.  Cotton  answered  all  these  objections  with  lengthy  argu- 
ments and  also  with  much  skill.  People  were  at  last  prepared  to  allow  all  to  sing 
who  could  or  would. 

The  practice  of  lining  out  was  then  general  all  over  New  England.  In  the 
course  of  time  this  practice  was  attacked,  and,  of  course,  also  stoutly  defended. 
Many  were  opposed  to  it,  on  the  ground  that  God  had  not  instituted  an  office  for 
the  lining  out  of  Psalms.  This  practice  was  strongly  rooted.  As  late  as  fifty 
years  ago,  a  New  England  settler  who  lived  somewhere  near  Chillicothe,  O.,  was 
in  the  habit  of  singing  Psalms  on  a  Sunday  afternoon.  This  was  all  well  enough 
and  praiseworthy ;  but  think  of  it,  there  sat  our  good  brother,  solitary  and  alone, 
lining  out  the  Psalms  for  his  own  especial  benefit.  Cotton  also  engaged  in  this 
struggle.  He  admitted  that  the  lining  out  of  Psalms  was  useless,  if  all  had 
books  and  could  read,  or  if  they  knew  the  Psalm  by  heart.  The  same  writer 
argued  that,  as  God  had  only  given  us  Psalms  and  not  the  tunes,  we  were  forced 
to  invent  new  ones.  After  this  idea  was  generally  accepted,  music  books  gradually 
increased.  The  controversy,  however,  was  by  no  means  ended.  During  the 
years  of  disputing  over  the  question,  whether  or  not  it  is  sinful  to  introduce  new 
tunes,  the  people  neglected  their  music,  until,  at  last,  their  singing  could  no 
longer  be  called  such.  All  manner  of  shakes  and  twists  had  crept  in,  and  scarcely 
any  two  sang  alike.  Rev.  Thomas  Walter,  in  his  book,  entitled  "Grounds  and 
Rules  of  Music,"  1721,  said  that  he  had  heard  "Oxford"  tune  sung  in  three 
churches  with  as  much  difference  as  there  possibly  could  be  between  as  many 
different  tunes.  The  church  music  of  that  time  was  mutilated,  tortured  and 
twisted,  said  Walter,  and  psalm-singing  became  a  mere  disorderly  noise,  left  to 
the  mercy  of  every  unskilled  throat  to  chop  and  alter,  twist  and  change  according 


100  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

to  his  own  odd  fancy.  He  further  adds  that  their  singing  sounded  like  five 
hundred  tunes  roared  out  at  once,  and  that  they  dragged  so  fearfully  that  he  was 
obliged  to  take  breath  twice  while  singing  one  note.  All  this  came  so  gradually 
that  they  still  deemed  their  singing  good,  yes,  the  most  horrid  discords  seemed 
to  gratify  their  ears. 

Walter's  book  brought  about  a  great  commotion.  Many  were  the  struggles  in 
behalf  of  better  singing,  and  many  and  bitter  were  the  objections  raised  against 
the  regular  singing,  as  they  called  singing  by  note.  They  said  that  singing  from 
notes  was  an  unknown  tongue,  that  it  was  not  as  good  as  the  old  way,  that  there 
were  too  many  tunes  to  be  learned,  that  no  one  could  master  them  all,  that  the 
new  way  caused  disturbances,  grieved  good  men,  exasperated  them,  that  it  caused 
them  to  behave  badly,  that  it  was  popish,  that  it  would  soon  bring  the  organs, 
that  the  names  of  the  notes  were  blasphemous,  that  this  new  style  of  singing  was 
merely  a  contrivance  to  get  money,  that  it  led  to  Rome,  or  at  any  rate  to  the 
Church  of  England,  and,  lastly,  that  it  must  be  bad,  because  the  young  people 
took  hold  of  it  so  readily. 

The  war  was  briskly  carried  on,  and  the  people  were  at  times  so  excited  that 
there  seemed  to  be  danger  of  bloodshed.  Of  course,  there  were  those  who  defied 
authority.  Thus,  we  read  in  an  old  record  that  Rev.  Samuel  Niles,  of  Baintree, 
in  1723  suspended  eight  church  members  for  persisting  in  singing  by  note.  They 
were,  however,  soon  restored,  and  the  congregation  was  allowed  to  sing  by  note 
and  rule  alternately,  so  that  both  parties  might  be  satisfied.  This  rule,  however, 
gave  offence  to  the  Rev.  Samuel  Niles,  and  thereafter  he  held  regular  service  in 
his  own  house,  leaving  the  church  to  the  deacons  and  their  new  style  of  singing. 
At  last  the  controversy  came  to  an  end.  The  people  of  Charleston  voted  that 
"  Mr.  Stephen  Badger,  Jun. ,  be  desired  to  read  and  to  set  the  Psalms,  and  that  he 
be  excused  his  poll  tax  as  long  as  he  shall  officiate  in  the  said  work. ' '  In  1742  the 
church  in  Hanover  voted  to  sing  in  the  new  way,  and  thus  church  after  church 
followed.  This  created  a  desire  for  musical  instruction,  and  the  necessity  of  sing- 
ing schools  was  felt  everywhere.  This  is  the  origin  of  the  old-fashioned  singing 
school,  which  soon  spread  over  all  New  England. 

Having  gained  this  much,  let  us  see  what  the  party  of  progress  next  demanded. 
It  was  but  natural  that  those  who  took  singing  lessons  should  also  desire  to  sit 
together  in  church.  For  many  years  they  occupied  the  front  pews,  but  were  not 
recognized  as  organized  choirs,  an  institution  not  known  in  this  country  until  after 
the  Revolution.  Psalms  were  still  lined  out,  and  not  unfrequently  the  most 
ludicrous  mistakes  were  made  or  contradictions  were  heard,  causing  the  young 
folks  to  titter  and  to  behave  badly.  Thus  the  old  deacon  read  out : 

"  The  Lord  will  come  and  he  will  not — ," 
and  after  singing  this  line  he  continued  reading — 

"  Keep  silence,  but  speak  out." 

Against  this  practice  of  lining  out  singing  schools  now  declared  war.  The  unfortu- 
nate deacons  not  unfrequently  made  mistakes  by  leaving  out  a  line,  or  by  reading 
another  twice,  thereby  throwing  the  whole  congregation  into  a  state  of  confusion. 
It  is  said  that  deacons  in  those  days  used  brass  candlesticks  for  the  getting  of  the 


CHURCH  MUSIC.  101 

pitch.  This,  of  course,  is  a  base  slander.  It  is,  however,  a  fact  that  the  deacons 
used  a  large  wooden  pitch-pipe,  said  to  have  looked  like  a  good-sized  mouse  trap. 
This  was  stealthily  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth  as  slily,  says  a  writer,  as  a  bottle 
of  brandy  in  a  stage  coach.  It  must  have  been  considered  a  stupendous  task  in 
those  days  to  start  a  tune,  for  we  are  informed  that  as  many  as  three  were  ap- 
pointed to  assist  in  this  work.  In  spite  of  this  fact,  they  often  took  the  pitch 
too  high,  thereby  causing  the  old  people  to  look  at  each  other  in  a  state  of  con- 
sternation, while  the  young  folks  chuckled  and  laughed  as  one  voice  after  another 
dropped  out,  until  at  last  the  deacon  had  only  the  stout-hearted  Ezekiel  or  the 
reliable  Prudence  left  to  assist  him  in  saving  the  tune  from  utter  shipwreck.  What 
a  relief  when  the  end  of  that  tune  was  reached  !  Imagine  the  deacon  as  he  gravely 
wiped  his  face,  for,  indeed,  it  was  hard  work  to  stretch  the  neck  and  to  sustain 
such  high  tones.  But  woe  to  the  deacon  if  he  stopped  to  take  the  tune  lower, 
for  he  was  sure  to  go  too  low. 

There  was  therefore  a  popular  movement  set  on  foot  against  lining  out  and 
against  musically  uneducated  deacons  starting  the  tunes.  One  parish  after 
another  gave  music  over  to  the  singers,  and  deacons  were  forced  to  struggle  for 
their  time-honored  rights  or  retire.  It  seems  strange  that  a  congregation  should 
meekly  wait  until  the  words  were  doled  out  to  them,  yet  there  were  many  who 
cried  Popery!  whenever  any  one  proposed  to  abolish  the  system.  While  these 
discussions  were  being  carried  on  the  singers  resorted  to  all  manner  of  intrigues  in 
order  to  carry  their  point.  They  would  start  the  tune  before  the  deacon  had  time 
to  do  so,  and  when  he  stopped  for  the  purpose  of  lining  out  they  sang  right  on. 
Then,  again,  they  would  sing  fast,  leaving  the  deacon  and  his  followers  far  behind. 
If  the  deacon  succeeded  in  starting  his  tune  before  they  were  ready,  they  would 
suddenly  start  another,  thereby  bewildering  the  people.  The  good  old  deacons, 
of  course,  resented  these  insults ;  but  then  the  system  had  to  go.  It  received  its 
first  official  blow  at  Worcester,  August  5th,  1779.  A  public  meeting  was  called 
to  consider  whether  they  should  sing  in  the  "usual  way  or  in  the  rulable  way." 
"  It  was  then  decided  by  a  vote  that  the  singers  sit  in  the  rear  seats,  on  the  men's 
side,  and  the  mode  of  singing  be  without  reading  the  Psalm  line  byline."  The 
following  Sunday  Deacon  Chamberlain  arose  in  the  meeting  in  order  to  fulfill  his 
time-honored  duty  of  lining  out  the  Psalms,  but  the  singers  made  no  pause.  Still, 
the  deacon  read  on  till  overpowered,  when  he  took  his  hat  and,  with  tears  in 
his  eyes,  retired.  This  was  the  first  organization  of  a  choir,  and,  as  you  see,  it 
started  with  a  fight.  Deacon  Chamberlain  was  censured,  and  the  choir  rested  on 
their  laurels.  Another  deacon  revenged  himself  by  waiting  until  the  choir  had 
finished,  when  he  gravely  arose  and  said  :  "Now  let  the  people  of  God  worship 
by  singing  such  and  such  a  Psalm."  At  the  same  time  he  looked  at  the  choir 
as  much  as  to  say,  "Whose  people  are  you?  "  The  struggle  went  on,  but  the 
deacons  finally  had  to  surrender. 

Having  thus  gained  two  great  victories,  the  choirs  introduced  still  greater 
changes.  Now  came  a  multitude  of  new  tunes,  and  with  them  the  bass  viol,  com- 
monly called  in  those  days  "  the  Lord's  fiddle ;"  there  came  also  the  small  violin, 
that  profane  instrument  the  "devil's  tunebox,"  as  some  churches  named  it,  and 
all  this  under  the  guise  of  assisting  in  starting  the  tune.  Deacons  and  ministers 
resisted  these  innovations,  and  people  took  sides.  Thence  churches  in  those  days 


102  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

were  distinguished  as  catgut  and  anti-catgut  churches.  A  good  old  deacon,  when 
giving  out  the  Psalm,  said,  with  much  irony  in  his  face,  "  Now  let  us  fiddle  and 
sing  in  praise  of  God  such  and  such  a  Psalm."  Still  another,  when  hearing  the 
violins,  became  very  daring  ;  he  took  his  hat,  danced  a  while  before  the  pulpit, 
and  then,  as  gracefully  as  he  could,  skipped  down  the  aisle  and  out  of  the  church. 
These  deacons  were,  of  course,  reprimanded,  and  the  choir  chuckled  and  laughed. 
Do  you  ask  where  and  how  all  this  ended?  In  an  old  record  in  Hanover 
church,  1805,  we  read  that  money  was  voted  to  repair  the  bass  viol,  and  to  put 
cushions  (?)  in  the  singers'  seats.  Now  came  also  flute  and  horn,  and  all  that 
without  further  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  people  or  church  authorities. 

Strange  to  say,  while  the  good  people  of  New  England  churches  sanctioned  the 
orchestra,  and  that  poorly  played,  they  still  fought  against  the  organ  as  the  instru- 
ment of  the  devil  and  the  Pope.  When  an  attempt  was  made  in  1713  to  intro- 
duce an  organ  in  Boston,  the  instrument  remained  unpacked  on  the  porch  of  the 
church  for  nine  months.  When  the  Dean  of  Berkshire  presented  an  organ  to 
the  town  in  1735,  it  was  decided  not  to  accept  the  gift,  because  the  organ,  as  an 
instrument  of  the  devil,  was  designed  to  entrap  men's  souls.  Since  1830  organs 
have,  however,  become  more  common  in  New  England  churches.  As  new 
churches  were  erected  galleries  were  put  in  for  the  use  of  the  choirs,  where  they 
sat  often  a  hundred  strong.  Quartette  choirs  are  a  modern  institution.  The 
choirs  were  recruited  every  spring  out  of  the  past  winter's  singing-school,  which 
was  kept  open  two  evenings  in  the  week,  and  that  at  the  expense  of  the  church. 

As  choirs  increased,  new  books  flooded  the  market ;  singing-schools  and  choirs 
were  organized  from  Maine  to  Georgia,  and  so  rapid  was  the  progress,  that  the 
people  could  not  follow — they  surrendered  everything,  and  finally  sat  in  silence. 
It  would  be  a  waste  of  time  to  mention  all  the  books  that  now  appeared ;  it  is 
enough  to  say  that  the  trade,  in  connection  with  compilers  of  books,  dictated  what 
churches  were  to  sing.  The  pioneers  of  American  church  music  were  Wm. 
Billings  and  Oliver  Holden,  both  Boston  men,  and  bora  in  the  middle  of  the  last 
century.  Many  books  became  popular,  but  none  perhaps  exceeded  the  sales  of 
Lowell  Mason's  "  Carmina  Sacra,"  of  which  a  million  copies  were  scattered  over 
the  country. 

But  we  have  not  yet  overcome  the  modernizing  spirit.  Our  churches  have  not 
yet  arrived  at  any  positive  rules  concerning  church  music.  With  the  Sunday 
school  came  also  a  new  style  of  music.  Children  were  willing  at  first  to  use  the 
regular  church  tunes ;  they  knew  nothing  else  and  asked  for  nothing  else.  But 
soon  there  was  a  cry  raised  against  the  old  church  music  as  being  too  stiff,  too  old 
fogy,  too  unmelodious  for  children.  The  little  ones  suddenly  needed  some  induce- 
ments to  draw  them  into  the  Sunday-school,  and  one  of  these  inducements  was 
to  be  lively  tunes.  The  trade  soon  supplied  the  article  desired.  The  first  real 
departure  in  this  direction  was  made  by  Bradbury.  Before  speaking  more  fully 
of  our  modern  Sunday-school  music,  allow  me  to  say,  that  I  shall  have  no  criti- 
cisms to  make  of  the  texts — read  them  carefully  and  judge  for  yourselves.  Neither 
am  I  unmindful  of  the  fact  that  at  least  some  of  our  so-called  Gospel  hymns  have 
become  a  power,  and  that  I  speak  not  indiscriminately  against  all  of  them.  On 
certain  occasions  it  is  proper  to  use  them—especially  is  this  true  of  home  singing 
around  the  fireside. 


CHURCH  MUSIC.  103 

To  sum  up  all  the  good  points  that  can  be  claimed  for  our  Sunday-school  music, 
I  would  state,  that  it  is  easily  learned,  readily  remembered,  and,  by  reason  of  its 
popular  character,  it  fosters  congregational  singing.  When,  however,  this  music 
is  weighed,  it  is  found  wanting — in  what?  In  dignity,  in  solidity,  in  strength — 
elements  which  are  very  essential  to  good  church  music. 

Rhythm  is  the  most  striking  trait  of  secularism  in  music,  and  it  becomes  vulgar 
in  the  same  proportion  as  it  is  crowded  into  the  foreground.  Rhythm  lends 
character  to  a  musical  composition,  and  without  it  music  cannot  exist.  The 
ancients  knew  this.  Plutarch  already  raised  his  voice  against  voluptuous  rhyth- 
mical music.  If  rhythm  is  essential  to  music,  it  is  also  its  lowest  element.  The 
ruder  a  people  the  more  they  love  rhythmical  noises.  The  beating  of  a  drum 
excites  an  Indian  to  ferocious  deeds.  The  Hindoos  never  sing  without  their 
talaams  and  tamtams.  The  Persians  accompany  their  singing  with  snapping  of 
fingers.  The  Australians  beat  sticks  together  while  shouting  out  their  rough 
songs.  The  Spaniards  dance  to  the  sound  of  tambourines  and  castanets,  two 
instruments  neither  of  which  produce  a  melody.  The  negroes  are  remarkable  for 
their  strong  rhythmical  feeling. 

Rhythm  principally  touches  the  sensual  element  of  our  natures.  If  rhythm 
predominates,  melody  and  harmony  usually  are  the  sufferers  ;  just  as  the  spirit 
suffers  when  the  body  largely  predominates.  Rhythm  is  the  ruling  element  of  the 
dance ;  the  dance-rhythm  touches  our  nerves,  and,  as  the  saying  is,  it  makes  our 
feet  move.  A  dance  consists  simply  of  a  pleasing  melody,  with  plain  harmony 
and  a  decided  rhythm ;  and  here  let  me  add  that  these  are  exactly  the  ingredients 
of  most  of  our  modern  Sunday-school  music,  and  also  of  many  Gospel  hymn- 
tunes.  It  is  but  natural  that  such  music  should  be  popular  with  children  and 
the  uneducated. 

If  the  art,  however,  is  an  agent  for  good,  the  church  should  only  use  it  in  its 
purest  forms,  for  then  religion  is  to  be  benefited  by  it.  The  question  I  desire  to 
put  to  the  ministry  is  this :  Can  the  church  afford  to  use  such  music  which 
appeals,  appealing  as  it  does,  to  the  lower  nature  of  man?  Can  the  church 
afford  to  abuse  an  art,  though  she  aim  thereby  to  improve  the  condition  of  man? 
The  art,  being  a  gift  of  God,  ought  to  be  used  conscientiously,  especially  so  by 
those  who  profess  to  love  and  serve  God.  Surely  we  could  not  afford  to  decorate 
our  church  walls  with  coarsely  drawn  pictures  in  order  to  please  the  uneducated. 
Yet  in  musical  matters  we  do  this  very  thing.  Would  it  be  safe  to  fill  our 
Sunday-school  libraries  with  novels  and  silly  stories  in  order  to  please  uneducated 
children?  Yet  the  modern  Sunday-school  tunes  are  the  silly  stories  of  church 
music.  The  rhythmical  element  is  strangly  developed  in  it ;  hence  these  tunes 
are  often  converted  into  dances,  they  are  heard  played  at  parades  and  picnics, 
minstrels  with  blackened  faces  sing  and  play  them.  Hilarious  young  people, 
coming  home  from  picnics  and  parties,  are  known  to  have  sung  "  Sweet  By  and 
By,"  "Hold  the  Fort,"  and  tunes  like  these.  Surely  such  popularity  cannot  be 
a  credit  to  any  church  music.  The  old  and  calmer  church  tunes  have  never  thus 
been  popularized,  neither  is  it  desirable  that  they  should  be. 

The  body  is  a  creature  of  habits.  Pleasures  of  the  body  are  apt  to  lose  their 
charm — the  truth,  the  spirit  alone  abideth.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  such  Sun- 
day-school music  soon  loses  its  power,  and  we  hear  constantly  that  children 


104  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

need  new  music,  they  have  grown  tired  of  their  old.  In  order  to  continue  this 
interest  in  the  Sabbath  school  the  church  is  forced  to  supply  from  time  to  time 
still  more  rhythmical  music,  and  the  question  now  is,  how  low  shall  we  sink? 
The  church  cannot  afford  to  gratify  the  carnal  man  in  one  thing  and  oppose  him 
in  another.  The  church  should  create  and  satisfy  demands  of  aesthetic  emotions, 
and  should  not  use  the  art  to  foster  sensualism,  for  there  is  danger  that  musical 
sensualism  may  produce  its  effects  upon  religion  itself.  It  is  alarming  to  notice 
how  ministers  regard  these  melodies  as  a  power  in  the  church,  and  how  frequently 
they  are  used  in  order  to  produce  that  sentimentalism  and  nervous  excitement 
which  many  mistake  for  religious  fervor ;  hence  these  tunes  are  used  especially 
when  revivals  are  the  object  of  religious  services.  The  church  was  blessed  with 
revivals  long  before  these  tunes  were  known.  I  believe  in  revivals  of  religion, 
but  only  in  such  as  are  preceded  by  much  prayer  and  humiliation.  Alas !  the 
Gospel  wagon  moves  too  slow  in  these  days  of  railroads  and  electricity.  Men 
seem  unwilling  to  wait  patiently  on  the  Lord's  coming,  so  these  tunes  are  used, 
and  though  the  fact  is  never  stated,  it  is  nevertheless  true,  that  they  are  used 
for  the  purpose  of  creating  sentiment,  which  is  supposed  to  be  religious  fervor. 
The  people,  especially  younger  folks,  with  all  their  strong  emotional  natures,  are 
often  influenced  by  these  tunes,  and  when  under  their  influence  they  decide  to 
join  the  church.  Be  it  far  from  me  to  sit  in  judgment  over  any  one's  religious 
professions,  but,  young  gentlemen,  it  will  be  one  of  your  duties  to  sit  in  judgment 
over  those  who  seek  church  fellowship.  Be  careful  to  ascertain  whether  the  con- 
version is  thorough,  or  whether  it  merely  seems  so.  Mere  sentimentality  does  not 
last  long,  it  needs  many  props ;  and  a  church  member  whose  religious  life  must 
be  sustained  by  sentimental  food,  is  usually  very  unreliable  and  often  troublesome 
as  well.  This  is  the  sort  of  people  who  supply  your  stock  of  backsliders  and 
formal  Christians. 

Ministers  alone  are  not  to  blame  for  this  ;  nay,  the  church  at  large  is  guilty 
of  wrong,  for  ministerial  successes  are  but  too  often  measured  by  mere  acces- 
sions to  the  church,  and  not  by  a  high  standard  of  piety.  People  look  too 
much  to  the  number  of  sheaves  a  minister  gathers,  unmindful  of  the  quality 
of  the  gram. 

The  change  for  worse  began  in  the  Sunday  school,  and  there  also  must  begin  the 
work  of  reform.  The  fact  was  overlooked  that  children,  while  singing  this 
flimsy  music,  acquired  bad  musical  tastes  ;  and  was  it  reasonable  to  suppose  that 
when  these  children  came  to  join  the  church  there  would  also  come  change  of 
musical  taste  along  with  a  change  of  heart?  Certainly  not.  The  young  church 
members  still  preferred  their  own  light  music,  and  disliked  the  hymns  and  tunes 
of  the  sanctuary  as  old  fogy  stuff,  and  too  unmelodious.  Thus  young  converts 
found  themselves,  in  matters  of  music  at  least,  in  antagonism  with  the  older 
members,  who  preferred  the  old  tunes. 

But,  then,  the  music  of  to-day,  like  the  music  of  ten  and  twenty  years  ago, 
must  pass  away,  and  the  question  is  still  unanswered  as  to  where  we  shall  stop. 
Where  and  when  will  the  church  call  a  halt !  But  how  shall  this  evil — for  such 
I  call  it — be  overcome  ?  Surely  its  eradication  will  not  be  accomplished  as  long 
as  the  ministry  fails  to  see  the  evil.  The  beginning  of  the  reform  should  be  to 
use  at  least  some  of  the  regular  hymns  and  tunes  in  the  Sabbath  school  Teach 


CHURCH  MUSIC.  105 

the  child  to  love  that  which  is  good,  and  when  it  haa  grown  up  to  manhood 
and  womanhood,  it  will  continue  to  love  it. 

Church  music  which  is  revered,  and  which  children  hear  from  their  youth  up, 
is  sure  to  become  a  power  hi  the  sanctuary.  As  it  is,  however,  our  music  ia 
unstable  as  a  reed  in  the  wind,  hence  it  cannot  become  that  power  which  it  is 
designed  to  be.  The  evil  is  long-standing,  and  so,  likewise,  will  the  cure  be  slow 
and  tedious.  But  no  matter  how  difficult  the  cure  may  be,  nothing  is  gained  by 
delay.  It  certainly  was  easier  to  step  down  to  the  sensational  and  the  flippant, 
than  it  will  be  to  step  up  to  the  good,  the  true  and  the  solid. 

Much  has  been  said  and  written  on  the  subject  of  church  music ;  men,  however, 
differ  widely  in  their  views  concerning  its  mission.  What,  then,  is  the  mission 
of  church  music  ?  There  are  those  who  view  it  as  a  pastime,  a  mere  means  of 
destroying  the  monotony  of  the  services.  Others  view  it  as  a  sort  of  a  concert, 
designed  to  entertain  and  to  attract  people  to  church.  Still  others  regard  it  as  a 
concession  to  the  people,  who  would  otherwise  take  no  active  part  outwardly  in 
the  devotional  exercises  on  Sunday.  Some  look  upon  church  music  as  a  means 
of  arousing  emotions  and  of  opening  the  heart  for  the  reception  of  the  Word. 
There  are  still  others  who  claim  that  it  is  the  object  of  church  music  to  raise 
worshipers  to  a  higher  religious  sentiment,  to  refine  their  feelings,  and  to  dispel 
worldly  thoughts.  Much  of  all  this  is  true  and  correct,  but  church  music  is  more 
than  all  this.  It  ought  to  be  the  purest  praise  which  intelligent  creatures  can 
offer  to  their  Creator  and  Benefactor.  This  is,  indeed,  a  most  serious  act,  the 
first  characteristics  of  which  ought  to  be  heartiness  and  sincerity.  He  who  sings 
in  such  a  frame  of  mind  will  not  likely  indulge  in  criticism  about  the  singing  of 
others,  no  matter  how  plain  their  voices  may  be. 

Religion  does  not  instill  boldness,  it  does  not  make  us  over-confident,  neither 
does  it  give  us  over  to  despair.  Church  music  should,  therefore,  be  favorable  to 
calm  reflection ;  it  should  be  purely  spiritual,  never  appealing  to  the  sensual  man ; 
it  should  subdue  passion,  and  not  arouse  it.  The  less  prominent  its  rhythm  is, 
the  better  for  it. 

World  and  church  are  opposites,  so  should  worldly  music  and  church  music  be 
opposites.  When  visiting  one  of  the  cathedrals  of  Europe,  we  are  impressed  with 
its  grandeur,  and  although  there  may  be  no  worship  held  within  its  ancient  walls 
at  the  time  of  our  visit,  one  feels  a  holy  awe,  scarcely  a  whisper  escapes  our  lips, 
for  we  feel  as  if  God  were  very  near.  So,  when  hearing  church  music,  we  should 
at  once  recognize  the  fact  that  it  is  not  worldly  music  we  hear. 

There  are  many  ways  of  worshiping  and  praising  God, — by  singing  hymns  or 
Psalms,  by  using  organs  or  by  singing  without  them  :  but  whatever  your  mode 
of  worship  may  be,  try  always  to  perfect  it,  remembering  that  God  loves  the 
perfect  better  than  the  imperfect.  Do  not  despise  art.  As  God  is  all-wise  and 
all-merciful,  so  is  He  also  the  concentration  of  all  that  is  beautiful.  Art  is  a 
manifestation  of  the  all-beautiful ;  hence,  it  is  a  revelation  of  God.  Let  your 
choirs,  then,  cultivate  art,  let  them  sing  the  grandest  and  best  our  masters  have 
produced,  but  never  surrender  congregational  singing.  Do  not  yield  it  under  any 
circumstances,  for  it  is  not  only  your  privilege  but  also  your  solemn  duty  to  praise 
your  Maker  with  your  own  lips.  Let  there  be  progress  in  all  things,  in  your 
singing  not  less  than  in  your  moral  life.  Good  singing  tunes  the  heart  and  makes 


106  MUSIC  AND   CULTURE. 

it  ready  for  the  reception  of  the  Word.  Good  singing  inspires  the  minister,  it 
unites  the  people,  it  impresses  the  mind  deeply  with  lessons  and  Scriptural  truths. 
Good  singing  makes  you  happier  and  better,  thus  the  very  praise  which  God 
commands  you  to  offer  is  turned  into  a  rich,  never-ceasing  fountain  of  blessings. 
Allow  me  to  add  a  few  practical  "Hints  for  Ministers,"  after  which  I  will  close 
my  discourse. 

In  many  churches  people  rush  their  hymns  through  as  if  they  were  impatient 
to  be  done  with  this  exercise.  I  fear  many  people  sing  hymns  merely  as  music, 
and  not  as  an  act  of  worship ;  hence,  the  subject  of  singing  praise  ought  to  be 
explained  to  the  people.  Hasty  songs,  like  hasty  prayers,  do  not  amount  to 
much.  On  the  other  hand,  you  must  guard  against  dragging,  which  also  is 
injurious  to  the  dignity  of  divine  worship.  The  organist  must  regulate  this 
largely,  and  unless  he  appreciates  the  sentiment  of  the  hymns,  unless  he  is  in 
sympathy  with  the  act  of  worship,  you  will  be  apt  to  have  defective  congrega- 
tional singing.  From  this  it  follows  that  the  organist  should  be  more  than  master 
of  his  instrument.  He  should  be  a  good  player  and  a  true  Christian.  This  leads 
me  also  to  say  a  few  words  about  employing  singers  who  lack  religious  sentiment. 
If  the  singing  of  praise  is  an  act  of  worship,  then  the  heart,  and  the  whole  heart, 
as  well  as  the  voice,  should  be  employed  in  this  act.  As  well  might  we  employ  an 
eloquent  Ingersoll  to  preach  for  us,  provided  he  would  abstain  from  that  which  is 
heterodox.  Yet  all  thinking  persons  would  call  him  a  hypocrite,  and  his  words 
would  be  without  effect,  no  matter  how  we  might  have  admired  his  oratorical 
powers.  The  same  is  true  of  singers.  They  may  sing  with  great  skill,  but  it  is 
the  heart  only  that  gives  weight  to  the  act  in  the  sight  of  God.  This  is  the 
central  idea  of  worship  in  all  its  forms.  Said  a  soprano  singer  one  rainy  Sunday 
morning,  ' '  I  suppose  we  will  not  sing  our  anthem  to-day,  for  there  is  scarcely 
anybody  here."  My  answer  was  as  quick,  as  it  was  emphatic,  "We  shah1  sing 
this  anthem  if  there  be  nobody  here  but  the  preacher ;  for  we  sing  not  for  the 
people,  we  sing  in  praise  of  Him  whose  Spirit  is  ever  present.  Let  me  enjoin  it 
upon  you,  always  to  realize  this  fact. ' ' 

Another  point  I  desire  to  touch  upon  is  this :  many  ministers,  when  selecting 
their  hymns,  pay  attention  only  to  the  words  and  not  to  the  music.  They  are 
satisfied  if  the  hymn  suits  the  subject  of  their  sermon,  forgetting,  at  the  same 
time,  that  the  people  are  expected  to  sing  the  tune.  This  lack  of  judgment  often 
disturbs  a  service  that  might  otherwise  have  been  called  perfect.  The  poor 
singing  of  a  hymn  puts  everybody  ill  at  ease ;  yes,  it  often  tones  down  the  fervor 
and  zeal  of  the  minister,  while,  if  the  mistake  occurs  at  the  close  of  the  service,  it 
is  apt  to  wipe  away  many  good  impressions.  If  you  wish  the  people  to  sing,  give 
them  music  which  they  can  sing.  There  are  many  tunes  in  our  hymnals  that  are 
not  fit  for  the  people's  use,  and  why  they  were  admitted  into  that  book  I  cannot 
tell  Moreover,  we  have  too  many  hymns  and  tunes  as  it  is ;  as  a  people,  we 
cannot  become  familiar  with  them  all.  There  is  a  disposition  on  the  part  of 
hymn-book  compilers  to  reach  out  for  chips  from  operas,  oratorios,  popular  music 
of  any  kind,  which  is  usually  presented  in  a  garbled  and  mangled  condition, 
neither  fit  for  the  choir  nor  the  congregation.  There  are  in  every  church  plenty 
of  poor  singers,  and  this  is  all  the  more  a  reason  why  only  plain  and  easy  music 
should  be  used.  Let  churches  hold  praise-meetings  from  time  to  time  ;  see  to  it 


CHURCH  MUSIC.  107 

that  you  have  a  leader  who  knows  how  to  present  his  lessons  both  from  a  religious 
and  a  musical  standpoint ;  let  the  people  begin  with  plain  familiar  tunes,  and  aim 
first  at  perfection  in  the  singing  of  these,  before  you  take  in  hand  new  tunes.  If 
the  people  learn  once  to  sing  certain  tunes  well,  the  act  of  praise  will  become 
more  and  more  a  source  of  delight.  Let  a  people  once  be  put  on  the  road  of 
improvement,  and  they  will  take  pleasure  in  walking  therein.  The  American 
people  love  song,  Christian  people  love  to  sing.  The  problem  is  what  means 
should  we  use  in  order  that  we  may  have  good  singing.  If  our  youth  were 
properly  instructed  in  the  Sabbath  school  our  congregational  singing  would 
rapidly  improve  as  well.  Alas !  the  church  hymns  and  tunes  are  denounced  as 
unfit  for  children,  they  are  excluded  from  the  Sabbath-school  exercises,  and,  as 
has  been  said,  it  is  unreasonable  to  expect  young  worshippers  to  like  at  eleven 
o'clock  what  was  denounced  or  ignored  at  nine. 

Now  only  a  few  words  about  the  relations  of  the  Pastor  to  the  choir.  There 
are  many  and  varied  opinions  on  this  subject ;  of  course,  these  relations  must  some- 
what differ  among  the  various  denominations,  but  in  their  essentials  they  are  the 
same.  If  the  minister  is  placed  over  the  house  of  God  as  a  spiritual  guide,  he 
should,  also,  rule  choirs ;  he  should  watch  over  the  music  of  the  sanctuary.  But 
if  he  would  rule  intelligently  he  should  also  know  something  about  music,  and  no 
doubt  the  time  is  coming  when  a  course  of  musical  lectures  will  be  regarded  by 
theological  seminaries  as  a  necessity.  There  is  no  minister  living  who  has  resting 
upon  his  shoulders  as  many  heavy  burdens  and  perplexing  duties  as  had  Martin 
Luther,  yet  in  the  midst  of  his  arduous  duties  he  found  time  to  practice  and  to 
study  music.  Why  should  not  as  much  be  expected  of  the  theological  students? 
Ministerial  ignorance  in  musical  matters  often  is  the  cause  of  much  mischief,  it  is 
often!  the  first  cause  of  disturbances  in  choirs.  Says  Mr.  A.  :  Why  should  the 
preacher  presume  to  dictate  to  us  what  we  shall  sing  or  how  we  shall  sing  it, 
when  he  knows  nothing  about  the  art  ?  It  is  for  this  reason  that  many  organists 
and  choir-leaders  say,  let  the  preacher  attend  to  his  end  of  the  church  and  we 
will  attend  to  ours.  Pray,  where  is  the  line  that  divides  the  two  ends?  Such  a 
spirit  is  wrong,  and  is  sure  to  be  productive  of  hurtful  results.  This  ignorance 
in  musical  matters  causes  many  ministers  to  step  very  lightly  when  they  approach 
their  choirs,  for  they  see  danger,  and  feel  their  helplessness.  No  matter  how 
prudent  a  preacher  may  be  when  making  suggestions  to  choirs,  there  is  danger  of 
an  explosion.  There  are  found  choirs,  made  up  of  Christian  people,  that  get 
along  peaceably,  because  of  their  character  and  interest  hi  the  church  as  well  as 
their  love  for  their  pastor.  So  one  finds  even  here  and  there  a  choir  made  up  of 
non-Christian  people,  that  do  their  duty  as  they  are  asked  to  do  it  by  the  minister, 
but  in  such  cases  it  is  usually  found  that  either  the  great  personal  influence,  or 
perchance  the  musical  culture  of  the  minister,  keeps  the  singers  in  the  line  of 
duty.  Such  choirs,  however,  are  few  and  far  between.  Let  ministers  guard 
their  rights  of  supervision  over  choirs,  let  them  not  surrender  the  least  of  them, 
for  there  is  no  telling  what  the  outcome  will  be  if  preachers  fail  to  keep  watch 
over  the  music  of  the  church.  Alas!  many  preachers  fall  asleep,  or  pretend 
to  see  nothing,  whenever  a  question  arises  with  which  the  choir  is  connected. 
Of  course,  young  gentlemen,  be  prudent,  use  judgment  and  skill,  when  you 
handle  these  musical  bombs,  but  rather  than  yield  to  that  which  you  deem 


108  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

wrong,  I  advise  you  to  burst  that  bomb,  even  if  it  costs  you  your  position.  The 
next  pastor,  at  least,  has  the  benefit  of  your  courage.  Some  churches,  like  some 
cities,  never  seem  to  learn  true  lessons  of  good  government  and  moderation  until 
a  bomb  or  two  has  been  exploded.  The  kind-hearted  minister,  the  gentle, 
loving  and  long-suffering  servant  of  God,  who  has  the  heart  of  his  people,  who, 
to  use  a  vulgar  phrase,  is  backed  by  his  people,  as  a  rule,  may  safely  walk  in  and 
out  of  these  musical  powder  magazines,  yet  I  have  known  even  such  inadvertently 
to  step  on  a  Lucifer  match  and  blow  up  everything.  Let  me  urge  it  upon  you  to 
post  yourselves  on  musical  matters,  acquire  some  musical  knowledge,  so  that  you 
may  be  true  leaders,  in  fact  as  well  as  in  name.  To  give  you  some  information 
on  the  subject  of  musical  history,  to  arouse  you  to  action  with  regard  to  our 
Sabbath-school  music,  to  point  out  a  few  of  the  sharp  corners  on  which  you  may 
hurt  yourselves  when  in  active  life,  was  the  object  of  my  lecture.  If  I  have 
done  you  the  least  service,  I  shall  feel  amply  repaid  for  my  trouble.  With  the 
words  of  the  Psalmist  I  will  close  my  discourse  : — 

"Praise  ye  the  Lord.  Praise  God  in  his  sanctuary.  Praise  him  in  the  firma- 
ment of  his  power.  Praise  him  for  his  mighty  acts.  Praise  him  according  to 
his  excellent  greatness.  Praise  him  with  the  sound  of  the  trumpet.  Praise  him 
with  psaltery  and  harp.  Praise  him  with  the  timbrel  and  dance.  Praise  him 
with  stringed  instruments  and  organs.  Praise  him  upon  the  loud  cymbals. 
Praise  him  upon  the  high-sounding  cymbals.  Let  everything  that  has  breath 
praise  the  Lord.  Praise  ye  the  Lord." 


HINTS  TO  PUPILS. 


1.  You  are  a  student  of  the  University.    Observe  all  the  rules  of  the  institu- 
tion. 

2.  To  master  an  art  requires  much  time  and  close  application.    Be  diligent. 

3.  Do  not  constantly  look  to  the  end  of  your  studies ;  look  more  to  the  daily 
steps  you  take.    Do  your  daily  duty  as  well  as  you  can,  for  then  you  will,  at  the 
end  of  the  year,  have  cause  to  feel  satisfied  with  your  progress. 

4.  To  attempt  to  do  in  one  day  what  should  be  done  in  two,  crowds  your 
work  and  over-taxes  your  strength.    This  is  sure  to  lead  to  bad  results.    Neglect, 
therefore,  none  of  your  daily  duties. 

5.  There  is  no  short-cut  in  mastering  an  art ;  there  are  no  jumps  ! 

6.  No  matter  how  gifted  your  teacher  may  be,  remember  that  you  yourself 
must  labor  hard  in  order  to  attain  success. 

7.  You  have  no  right  to  expect  your  teacher  to  take  a  deep  interest  in  your 
progress  if  you  yourself  are  not  interested  in  your  studies. 

8.  Remember  your  parents  spend  their  money,  while  your  teacher  spends  his 
time,  in  order  to  advance  you.     Use  these  means  conscientiously. 

9.  If  you  do  not  mean  to  be  a  good  student,  do  not  enter  this  department. 

10.  Have  regular  practice  hours,  and  never  deviate  from  your  plan  of  work 
unless  there  is  a  good  cause  for  it. 

11.  Never  practice  listlessly  ;  always  have  your  whole  mind  and  heart  in  your 
Work.    Know  what  you  do  and  why  you  do  it.     Always  hear  yourself  while 
practicing.     Watch  the  tones  you  produce. 

12.  Practice  slowly,  for  thus  alone  will  you  secure  a  correct  impression  of  a 
composition. 

13.  When  practicing  by  yourself,  count  loud  and  regularly. 

14.  He  who  uses  bad  tools  is  almost  sure  to  do  poor  work.    The  pianist  who 
fails  to  play  technical  studies  will  play  with  a  stiff  hand ;  he  will  do  poor  work. 
Playing  technical  studies  is  for  the  pianist  what  the  sharpening  of  the  tools  is 
for  the  mechanic. 

15.  Do  not  play  a  piece  over  ten  or  twelve  times — try  to  master  the  difficult 
places. 

16.  When  tired  or  nervous,  cease  practicing.     Take  care  of  your  health. 

17.  Watch  your  fingering.    Good  fingering  is  for  the  pianist  what  a  good  road 
is  for  the  traveler ;  it  facilitates  motion. 

18.  Always  phrase  correctly. 

19.  Remember  it  is  easy  to  acquire  bad  habits,  but  it  is  difficult  to  correct  them. 
The  correction  of  bad  habits  in  playing  or  singing  consumes  much  precious  time. 
Always  do  your  work  so  that  you  may  not  have  to  undo  it. 

109 


110  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

20.  Strive  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  composition  you  study.    By  playing 
the  notes  merely,  your  playing  is  not  artistic.      Let  music  awaken  in  you 
sympathy  and  love.     Unless  it  produces  these  results  your  studies  are  in  vain. 
It  is  the  object  of  your  musical  education  both  to  awaken  and  refine  sentiment. 

21.  Study  your  lesson  until  you  have  mastered  it.    Then  review  the  past  work. 
He  who  neglects  the  pieces  learned,  is  like  the  laborer,  who,  after  earning  the 
money  by  hard  toil,  places  it  in  pockets  with  holes  in  them.     After  reviewing 
you  may  also  try  your  skill  on  new  things  and  practice  sight  reading. 

22.  Measure  not  your  progress  by  the  number  of  pieces  you  play,  but  by  the 
manner  in  which  you  play  them,  as  well  as  by  the  character  of  the  music  that 
you  study. 

23.  Do  not  imagine  that  you  are  making  progress  in  attempting  to  play  a  diffi- 
cult piece.     Only  what  you  can  play  well  and  what  you  know,  is  your  own  ;  not 
what  you  choose  to  put  into  your  portfolio. 

24.  The  playing  of  a  concerto  or  the  singing  of  a  great  aria,  represents  as 
much  brain  labor,  and  surely  as  much  patient  toil,  as  does  the  mastery  of  a  lan- 
guage or  a  science. 

25.  In  your  intercourse  with  fellow-students  as  well  as  with  musicians  in  gen- 
eral, indulge  neither  in  jealousy  nor  envy.    Always  put  art  before  yourself;  never 
yourself  before  art.     The  jealous  and  envious  musician  has  not  true  music  in  his 
heart,  for  music  is  love. 

26.  Strive  to  reach  perfection.     After  tasting  the  pleasures  of  perfection  in 
one  piece,  you  will  be  sure  to  aim  at  it  in  all  your  work. 

27.  Have  confidence  in  yourself,  but  keep  vanity  out  of  the  heart. 

28.  Carelessness  in  forming  habits,  negligence  in  doing  your  work,  indulgence 
in  vanity  or  in  envy  while  engaged  in  your  musical  studies,  are  sure  to  affect  your 
whole  character. 

29.  Keep  your  music  and  piano  in  good  order.     The  piano-lid  reveals  your 
character.     Have  your  piano  tuned  whenever  it  is  needed. 

30.  Be  punctual  in  corning  for  your  lesson. 

31.  Feel  sure  of  a  hearty  welcome.     Never  be  afraid  to  ask  questions. 

32.  Be  cheerful  while  being  corrected. 

33.  Be  grateful  to  all  your  teachers,  for  they  are  good  friends  of  yours. 

34.  Study  harmony  and  musical  history.     Without  the  mastery  of  these 
studies,  you  will  always  be  a  one-sided  musician. 

35.  Read  good  books  on  music,  and  musical  journals.     Read  also  good  books 
on  other  subjects  than  music. 

36.  Hear  good  players  and  singers  whenever  you  can. 

37.  Mingle  among  musicians,  converse  with  them  about  your  art.     Seek  the 
instruction  of  more  than  one  teacher,  for  every  good  teacher  has  his  or  her  points 
of  superiority.     Never  beh'ttle  another  teacher  or  his  work. 

38.  Be  more  than  a  mere  player  or  singer.     Be  an  intelligent,  many-sided 
musician  ;  a  thinking  and  fine-feeling  musician. 

39.  View  your  art  as  a  precious  gift.     See  to  it  that  you  use  it  properly,  and 
do  not  neglect  to  thank  the  Giver: 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  BEAUTIFUL. 


When  I  appear  before  you  as  the  advocate  of  the  Beautiful  and  of  ^Esthetic 
culture,  I  am  not  unmindful  of  the  fact  that  this  subject  has,  of  late  years, 
suffered  in  public  estimation  through  the  efforts  of  that  apostle  of  sestheticism, 
Oscar  Wilde.  But  say  what  we  will  about  him,  we  must  give  him  credit 
for  this  virtue,  that  the  end  at  which  he  aimed  was  a  good  one.  Had  he  been  a 
manly  man,  had  he  dressed  like  sensible  people,  had  he  cut  his  hair  short — for  in 
these  days  long-haired  men  and  short-haired  women  are,  as  a  rule,  looked  upon 
with  suspicion — he  would  no  doubt  have  spoken  to  more  willing  ears.  As  it  is, 
his  influence  seems  to  have  spent  itself  in  one  direction  mainly.  Instead  of 
planting  sun-flowers  in  the  rear  of  our  garden  patches,  and  giving  the  seeds  to 
the  chickens  as  feed,  we  now  plant  them  in  the  front  yard,  and  many  maidens 
wear  the  big  yellow  flowers  in  their  belts. 

I  therefore  invite  your  attention  to  the  question,  What  is  the  Beautiful? 
without  promising,  however,  that  I  will  answer  it,  and  for  the  simple  reason  that 
the  Beautiful,  being  concentrated  in  God,  is  infinite  and  cannot  be  fully  under- 
stood by  the  finite  mind. 

Wieland  said,  "the  Beautiful  can  only  be  felt,  but  cannot  be  expressed." 
Nevertheless,  throughout  all  ages  men  have  endeavored  to  do  what  Wieland  said 
could  not  be  done.  The  greatest  minds  of  all  ages  have  busied  themselves 
speculating  about  the  Beautiful,  yet  very  few  among  the  philosophers  that  have 
written  on  this  subject,  have  advanced  new  theories. 

It  is  at  any  time  difficult  to  give  a  correct  definition  of  an  abstract  term,  and 
this  difficulty  makes  itself  felt  in  a  special  manner  when  attempting  to  say  in 
words  what  the  Beautiful  means.  Writers  have  said  that  all  things  which  are 
pleasing  to  the  eye  and  to  the  ear  are  beautiful.  It  is  true,  the  Beautiful  is 
pleasing  to  the  eye  and  the  ear,  but,  for  all  this,  the  definition  is  exceedingly 
vague,  for  not  all  things  that  please  the  eye  and  the  ear  are  necessarily  beautiful. 
Let  me  illustrate.  I  have  heard  hungry  German  students  go  into  ecstacy  over 
the  beauty  of  sausage !  No  matter  how  pleasing  a  sight  it  may  be  when  nicely 
browned,  it  is  after  all  a  very  prosaic  sort  of  an  object.  The  hungry  man  is  apt 
to  see  beauty  in  everything  calculated  to  satisfy  his  cravings.  I  have  heard  men 
sing  praises  of  their  meerschaums,  and  no  doubt  they  were  things  of  beauty  in 
their  sight ;  to  others  they  were  mere  loud-smelling  objects.  I  have  heard  ladies 
go  into  ecstacy  over  what  they  called  a  bonnet.  Who  doubts  the  fact  that  to  them 
it  was  a  thing  of  beauty  ?  To  men  it  was  an  object  of  ridicule.  I  have  heard 
ladies  speak  with  rapture  of  the  lover's  language,  as  it  was  whispered  into  their 
ears.  I  doubt  not  the  words  of  my  fair  friends,  but  while  love's  language  is 

111 


112  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

beautiful  to  them,  to  disinterested  persons  it  sounds  absurd  aud  far-fetched,  and 
often  deserves  to  be  denounced  as  a  pack  of  exaggerations. 

Wben  speaking  of  things  that  are  pleasing  to  the  eye  and  the  ear,  the  question 
arises :  Whose  eyes  and  ears  are  pleased  ?  And  then  comes  the  second  question  : 
Whose  eyes  and  ears  are  to  be  regarded  as  the  standard  for  all  others  ?  Human 
eyes  do  not  see  alike,  nor  do  human  ears  hear  alike.  They  are  mere  agencies 
that  lead  impressions  to  the  brain,  and  in  this  operation  they  are  often  very 
defective  and  delusive.  But  granted  we  all  were  to  see  and  hear  alike,  are  our 
minds  not  so  constituted  that  they  differ  widely  in  their  operations,  in  their  power 
of  receiving  and  assimilating  impressions  ?  But  granted  all  minds  were  alike 
gifted  in  this  respect,  would  we  not  still  discover  a  vast  diversity  in  our  emotions 
and  in  the  training  produced  by  early  impressions  and  surroundings?  Even 
if  we  felt  alike  and  enjoyed  the  same  opportunities  for  culture,  men  would  still 
differ  in  the  operations  of  their  imaginations,  for  this  gives  a  thousand  colorings 
to  objects  and  situations,  to  thoughts  and  sentiments,  and  these  colorings  must 
be  peculiar  to  the  individual.  The  true  human  standard  lies  in  the  recognition 
of  the  best  minds,  a  recognition  which  must  endure  for  all  ages ;  for  that  which 
is  really  beautiful  cannot  become  ugly,  no  matter  how  tastes  may  change  and 
how  far  art  may  progress.  The  ait-works  of  the  ancient  Grecians  are  beau- 
tiful to-day ;  indeed,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  we  are  better  qualified  to 
appreciate  their  beauty  than  were  the  Grecian  people  themselves.  Palestrina 
lived  centuries  ago,  Bach  and  Handel  were  born  two  hundred  years  ago ;  and 
although  there  is  an  almost  immeasurable  distance  between  these  men  and 
Wagner,  their  works  are  still  considered  beautiful. 

When  I  speak  of  a  human  tribunal  concerning  the  Beautiful,  I  mean  one 
which  is  infallibly  sure,  instantaneous  to  perceive  and  to  appreciate  that  which 
is  beautiful  in  art.  Least  of  all,  is  there  to  be  found  a  tribunal  which  is  qualified 
to  comprehend  fully  the  essence  of  the  Beautiful,  and  to  lay  down  infallible  laws 
for  the  artist.  When  men  measure  the  depth  of  the  sea  they  sink  lines  with 
lead  attached  to  them.  So,  says  a  writer,  our  intellects  fathom  the  depths  of  the 
arts  and  literature.  But  what  a  difference  there  is  in  the  length  of  the  mental 
strings!  All  human  beings  no  doubt  derive  more  or  less  pleasure  from  the 
Beautiful ;  indeed,  the  power  of  enjoying  it  is  inborn ;  it  is  a  gift  of  God ;  it  is  an 
evidence  of  our  divine  nature.  But,  for  all  that,  we  differ  widely  in  the  degree 
of  our  enjoyment  of  the  beautiful.  Some  have  strings  only  a  few  inches  long, 
while  others  have  only  chips  attached  to  them,  which  cannot  sink.  Yet  persons 
of  this  class  are  most  ready  in  the  expression  of  then-  views ;  they  are  the  most 
hasty  and  the  severest  critics.  No  matter  how  long  the  lines  may  be,  it  must  be 
accepted  as  a  truism  that  none  have  as  yet  reached  the  bottom  of  the  art  sea, 
and  no  matter  how  far  we  shall  progress,  none  will  ever  reach  it.  No  one  can  see 
the  All-Beautiful,  no  one  can  conceive  of  it ;  and  for  this  reason  there  can  be  no 
positive  human  standard  either  for  the  eye  or  the  ear,  or  for  the  brain,  the 
emotions  or  the  imagination.  Art  is  unlimited,  and  it  is  as  free  as  it  is  unlimited. 
The  human  race  is  progressive,  and  I  conceive  it  to  be  our  great  mission  ever  to 
progress  toward  the  perfectly  Beautiful,  which  is  concentrated  in  the  Deity. 

The  definition,  therefore,  that  that  which  is  pleasing  to  the  eye  and  the  ear  is 
or  constitutes  the  Beautiful,  is  not  a  good  one.  The  same  is  true  of  Webster's 


THE  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE  BEAUTIFUL.  113 

definition.  He  says  the  Beautiful  is  an  assemblage  of  graces  or  of  properties 
which  please  the  eye  or  the  ear,  or  the  other  senses  of  the  mind.  Let  me 
put  by  the  side  of  this  the  diversity  of  human  tastes  and  styles  of  beauty  as 
admired  by  different  nations  as  well  as  by  individuals.  Allow  me  to  quote 
Voltaire,  whose  opinion  I  give  merely  in  connection  with  this  subject,  not  because 
I  endorse  either  his  religious  or  social  views.  Said  he  :  "To  the  toad,  a  yellow 
throat,  two  round  eyes  and  a  big  mouth  are  objects  of  beauty ;  to  the  Hottentot 
it  is  a  black  skin,  thick  lips  and  "a  flat  nose."  What  a  distance  from  such  an 
ideal  of  the  beautiful  to  that  represented  by  an  Apollo  Belvedere  or  a  Venus  de 
Medici.  Again,  look  at  the  pleasure  the  uneducated  derive  from  a  French  harp, 
and  how  far  above  them  stand  those  who  admire  Beethoven's  symphonies, 
Handel's  oratorios,  etc.  We  will  therefore  accept  it  as  a  fact  that  the  term 
Beautiful  can  no  more  be  defined  than  we  can  define  the  sensation  of  seeing, 
hearing  or  feeling.  "Beauty,"  says  a  writer,  "is  a  sense  of  the  soul,  and  every- 
thing that  touches  this  sense  is  beautiful."  Indefinite  as  this  is,  it  is  far  better 
than  either  of  the  other  definitions  I  have  quoted.  In  order  to  excite  this  sense 
God  has  made  this  world  beautiful,  and  he  has  given  us  this  sense,  evidently 
meaning  thereby  that  we  shall  cultivate  it,  and  that  it  shall  be  made  one  of  the 
avenues  which  shall  lead  us  to  Him,  who  is  the  All-Beautiful. 

The  Beautiful  was  a  favorite  subject  of  speculation  among  the  ancient 
Grecians.  Though  they  had  no  correct  idea  of  God  they  sought  the  Deity 
for  the  source  of  the  Beautiful.  Thales,  who  lived  toward  the  close  of  the 
seventh  century,  B.  C.,  one  of  the  seven  wise  men,  and  by  many  considered  the 
first  who  speculated  on  the  constitution  of  the  universe,  said  that  "the  Cosmos, 
as  the  art-work  of  the  gods,  is  the  Beautiful."  In  other  words,  that  the  Beau- 
tiful, as  concentrated  in  the  Deity,  is  expressed  and  manifested  in  the  creation. 
This  is  the  foundation-stone  upon  which  rest  all  ancient  as  well  as  modern  specu- 
lations on  this  subject.  Pythagoras,  who  lived  570,  B.  C.,  and  who  is  called 
the  founder  of  what  is  known  as  the  Italic  School  of  Philosophy,  teaches  that  as 
God  Himself  is  the  All-Good,  the  Harmony  of  liberty  and  necessity,  so  are  all 
His  works  impressed  with  the  principles  of  harmony.  Nature  has  her  contrasts, 
but  these  are  blended  in  harmony.  This  unity  in  multiplicity,  this  harmony  in 
contrasts,  Pythagoras  defines  to  be  the  Beautiful.  His  teachings  are  also  based 
upon  the  idea  that  in  the  Deity  we  find  the  source  of  the  Beautiful  in  its  per- 
fection. 

Heraclitus  assumes  a  similar  theory.  He  said  that  the  world  consists  of  con- 
trasts, but  that  the  Deity  brings  harmony  out  of  these  contrasts.  This  harmony, 
he  teaches,  is  also  found  in  the  arts.  There  is  contrast  but  also  unity  in  the 
colors  of  a  painting ;  there  are  high  and  low,  long  and  short  tones  in  music,  yet 
all  make  sweet  melody. 

An  American  writer  said  that  "Plato  was  the  first  who  speculated  upon  the 
Beautiful."  This,  as  I  have  already  shown,  is  an  error.  Plato's  name  is,  how- 
ever, closely  connected  with  this  subject.  While  he  has  said  much  that  is 
interesting,  we  must  bear  in  mind  these  two  facts :  First,  he  never  gave  a  system 
of  his  own.  Second,  he  never  separated  the  Beautiful  from  the  Good.  The  sum 
and  substance  of  what  he  has  said  may  be  expressed  in  these  words :  The  founda- 
tion of  the  Beautiful  is  a  reasonable,  order  addressed  to  the  imagination  through 


114  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

the  senses;  that  is,  symmetry  in  form,  harmony  in  sound,  the  principles  of 
which  are  certain  as  the  laws  of  logic,  mathematics  and  morals,  all  equally  neces- 
sary products  of  the  Eternal  Intellect,  whom  we  call  God.  Thus  Plato,  like  his 
predecessors,  ascribed  the  Beautiful  to  that  source  of  all  force,  the  Creator  of  the 
universe,  the  sum  of  whose  exalted  attributes  he  calls  "  to  Agathon,"  the  Good. 
Plato  refers  to  this  subject  in  detached  sentences,  and  it  would  be  difficult  to 
formulate  a  complete  system  out  of  his  discourses.  He  distinctly  says  that  "  God 
is  the  All- Wise,  the  All-Good  and  the  All-Beautiful."  Of  these  three  ideas 
Plato  regards  the  All-Good  as  the  highest,  for  it  approaches  nearest  to  the  Deity. 
Out  of  this  spring  the  other  two  ideas,  those  of  the  All-Wise  and  the  All- 
Beautiful.  The  boundary  line  between  these  two,  he  claims,  is  difficult  to 
draw ;  for  the  Good  plays  over  into  the  Beautiful,  so  that  persons  are  often 
misled.  Everything  good,  true  and  beautiful  has  its  foundation  in  harmony. 
Virtue  is  the  health  and  beauty  of  the  soul,  vice  is  sickness  and  deformity. 
Plato  makes  distinctions  in  the  grades  of  beauty.  First,  he  regards  the  beauty 
of  the  body  ;  second,  the  beauty  of  soul ;  third,  beauty  of  wisdom  and  knowl- 
edge ;  fourth,  the  beauty  of  the  Divine  Idea.  Everything  earthly,  he  teaches, 
is  in  so  far  beautiful,  as  it  partakes  of  the  beauty  of  God.  He  who  has  the  most 
perfect  body  and  purest  soul  is,  according  to  Plato,  the  best  representative  of  the 
Beautiful.  The  effects  of  the  Beautiful  are  joy,  happiness  and  love.  The 
Beautiful,  therefore,  be  it  represented  in  colors,  in  tones  or  in  words,  is  pro- 
ductive of  pleasant  sensations  and  an  agreeable  state  of  satisfaction.  This  he 
explains  through  the  theory  of  pre-existence,  according  to  which  every  soul  had, 
before  its  birth,  while  it  was  yet  with  God,  also  Godlike  ideas  of  the  Beautiful. 
Hence,  when  the  soul  sees  anything  beautiful,  it  is  instantly  affected  by  it,  for  it 
is  suddenly  seized  by  the  recollection  of  its  original  home,  for  every  earthly  beauty 
is  but  a  reflection  of  heavenly  beauty.  Thus  Plato  tries  to  explain  why  we  are 
so  powerfully  moved  when  seeing  fine  art  works,  when  hearing  beautiful  music 
or  when  reading  grand  poetry,  and  why  they  so  often  make  us  sad ;  for  they 
produce  in  us  a  longing  for  our  former  home  of  joy  or  a  state  of  perfect  bliss.  In 
other  words,  art  makes  us  homesick  for  Heaven,  our  real  abiding-place. 

Aristotle  thought  that  the  Beautiful  was  created  with  the  good  and  the  true,  and 
that  its  main  characteristics  are  order  and  limit.  According  to  his  theory  the 
Beautiful  consists  of  definite  quality  and  quantity,  of  correct  arrangement  and 
perfect  symmetry  of  parts.  Hence  neither  a  very  small  nor  a  very  large  animal, 
according  to  Aristotle,  can  be  beautiful.  Small  tilings  are  only  pretty  and  well- 
proportioned.  The  idea  that  the  Beautiful  calls  forth  love,  was  so  self-evident 
to  him,  that  when  he  was  asked  for  an  explanation,  he  said  that  this  was  the 
question  of  a  blind  man. 

Aristotle's  theories  were  for  several  centuries  accepted  as  the  only  correct  ones ; 
here  and  there  only,  an  idea  from  Plato  and  Pythagoras  was  mixed  in  with  them. 
The  only  philosopher  after  Aristotle  who  wrote  with  authority  and  originality  on 
this  subject  was  Plotinus,  who  lived  250  B.  C.  He  was  the  most  important 
philosopher  of  the  new  Platonic  school,  and  his  system  in  the  main  was  based 
upon  Plato's  theories.  "Usually,"  says  he,  "we  imagine  the  Beautiful  to  be 
something  recognizable  through  the  aid  of  the  eye  or  the  ear,  but  does  not  the 
Beautiful  exist  more  in  the  spiritual  than  in  the  bodily  ?  Is  there  not  beauty  in 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  BEAUTIFUL.  115 

noble  deeds,  and  in  virtues?  What  then  is  beautiful?  The  usual  answer  is 
that  symmetry  is  beautiful ;  but  according  to  this  idea  only  the  complicated 
things  can  be  beautiful  Hence,  sunlight,  lightning  and  the  ocean  cannot  be 
beautiful  "This  theory,"  he  argues,  "is  not  correct,  for  we  know  that  sun- 
light, lightning  and  the  sea  are  beautiful  in  themselves."  "Our  soul,"  he 
says  further,  "is  a  part  of  the  higher  and  better  world,  and  when  we  behold 
anything  relating  to  it,  we  are  happy."  This  is,  as  you  will  observe,  a  revival  of 
Plato's  theory  of  pre-existence. 

Says  Plotinus,  a  thing  can  be  beautiful  only  as  it  is  related  to  eternal 
things,  only  so  far  as  it  is  connected  with  divine  beauty.  Our  soul  compares  its 
inward  idea  of  the  Beautiful  with  the  beauty  of  the  things  seen,  and  if  they 
harmonize,  a  thing  is  beautiful  This  is,  in  substance,  the  same  theory  with 
which  we  started  out,  namely,  that  that  which  pleases  the  eye  and  the  ear  is 
beautiful.  The  falsity  of  this  theory  has  been  shown,  and  I  shall  not,  therefore, 
stop  to  repeat.  But  there  is  a  conclusion  to  be  drawn  from  it,  namely,  that  while 
tastes  and  intellects  differ,  while  we  have  no  general  standard  whereby  to  measure 
the  Beautiful,  it  may  safely  be  accepted  as  a  fact  that  every  soul  has  its  own 
standard  of  beauty.  It  is,  therefore,  perfectly  proper  for  a  person  to  say,  I  con- 
sider this  object  beautiful,  while  it  might  be  presumptuous  to  say,  it  is  beautiful. 
Therefore,  when  finding  an  object  of  beauty  which  fills  our  souls  and  draws  forth 
all  our  admiration,  we  may  say  that  we  have  found  our  ideal  of  the  Beautiful, 
but  we  have  no  right  to  say  that  we  have  found  the  ideal. 

As  long  as  the  soul  is  imprisoned  in  the  body,  mixed  with  clay,  says  the  phi- 
losopher, it  cannot  be  beautiful.  When  the  soul,  however,  is  freed  from  this 
tabernacle  it  regains  its  beauty.  The  soul  through  eternity  becomes  better  and 
purer ;  more  like  its  divine  source.  Hence  it  becomes  more  Godlike,  for  God 
is  the  source  of  all  that  is  beautiful.  All  those  who  seek  the  Deity  are 
beautiful  Blessed  are  those  that  hear  and  see  His  beauty;  miserable  are 
those  that  hear  and  see  it  not.  We  love  the  beautiful,  furthermore  says 
the  philosopher,  as  something  that  reminds  us  of  our  former  existence,  and 
he  continues  by  urging  his  readers  to  cleanse  their  eyes,  so  that  they  may  see 
the  Spirit- World,  for  we  shall  never  see  the  Beautiful  until  we  ourselves  have 
become  beautiful. 

Plotinus  regards  the  Beautiful  as  something  immaterial  Symmetry  and  pro- 
portion are  to  him  the  foundation  of  the  Beautiful,  but  not  beauty  itself.  The 
Beautiful  is  that  which  we  perceive  in  the  symmetric  and  well  proportioned.  In 
order  to  make  clear  his  idea  he  draws  a  comparison  between  a  face  of  a  live  person 
and  that  of  one  who  is  dead.  The  symmetry,  he  claims,  is  the  same  in  both, 
yet  there  is  a  beauty  in  the  live  face  which  does  not  exist  in  that  which  is  dead. 
This  comparison  is  penetrable  from  the  fact  that  there  is  no  beauty  in  a  dead 
face,  unless  means  have  been  used  to  keep  it  in  a  condition  resembling  the  live 
face.  If  a  person  dies,  the  muscles  relax,  the  chin  drops,  the  eyes  stare,  etc. 

Plotinus  says  further,  that  beauty  is  spiritual,  not  material.  True,  divine 
beauty  never  appears  upon  earth.  Yes,  it  is  according  to  his  ideas  sacrilegious 
to  suppose  that  divine  beauty  ever  descends  upon  earth  to  dwell  in  vile  clay,  in 
filthy,  sickly  bodies,  where  it  would  ever  be  marred  and  soiled.  Yet  Christianity 
teaches  that  the  divine  beauty  has  dwelt  in  this  "sickly,  filthy  human  body." 


116  MUSIC  AtfD  CULTURE. 

"Let  him,"  says  he,  tl  who  would  speak  slightingly  of  art,  bear  in  mind  this 
fact,  that  nature  is  but  an  imitation  of  the  divine  idea,  and  in  order  to  make 
nature  appear  more  perfect  the  artist  draws  upon  the  resources  of  his  own  mind. ' ' 
Yes,  the  philosopher  goes  so  far  as  to  claim  that  art  is  far  more  perfect  than 
nature,  but  being  without  life  and  therefore  soulless,  it  cannot  be  perfect. 

I  have  already  said  that  the  heathen  philosophers  have  advanced  the  theory 
that  the  Beautiful  is  found  only  in  the  Deity.  Modern  learning  has  added 
nothing  to  this.  To  the  contrary,  some  writers  who  enjoy  the  light  of  Christi- 
anity endeavor  to  fix  the  idea  of  the  Beautiful  far  lower  than  did  the  Grecian 
writers  already  quoted.  It  was  but  natural  that  the  ideas  of  the  Beautiful  as 
taught  by  them  should  be  perpetuated  by  the  church  Fathers,  who  were  good 
Greek  scholars.  The  claim,  therefore,  on  their  part,  that  all  beauty  is  divine  in 
its  origin  and  that  all  created  things  are  beautiful  because  their  Creator  is  such, 
is  simply  a  reiteration  of  the  ancient  Grecian  philosophy ;  and  when  they  further 
say  that  God,  the  Father  of  all  spirits,  endows  men  with  the  powers  of  imagina- 
tion and  ideals  of  beauty,  they  are  not  far,  if  any,  in  advance  of  these  ancient 
Grecian  teachers. 

Before  reviewing  German  philosophy  let  us  hear  what  English  and  French 
writers  of  modern  times  have  to  say  on  the  theory  of  the  Beautiful. 

English  writers  have  in  the  main  speculated  on  the  Beautiful  in  form  and  color. 
That  they  felt  unable  to  dive  into  the  mysteries  of  the  tone-world  was  but  natural, 
for  while  music  was  loved  in  England,  it  never  prospered  there  extensively  as  an 
art.  Moreover,  the  English  even  to  this  day  regard  vocal  music  as  the  highest 
and  only  true  form  of  art.  They  always  subordinated  the  tone  to  the  word,  and 
speculated  whenever  saying  anything  tending  that  way,  from  the  one  to  the  other. 
The  English  sought  more  to  find  the  Beautiful  itself,  and  not  so  much  the  idea 
of  it,  as  the  Germans  did.  "  English  philosophy  is  an  answer,"  says  a  writer, 
"to  the  question,  What  is  it  that  makes  a  thing  beautiful?  Is  the  Beautiful 
inherent  or  is  it  based  upon  association  ?  ' ' 

Shaftesbury  entertained  Platonic  views,  but  his  own  peculiar  theories  are  de- 
nounced as  unintelligible.  It  was  he  who  believed  in  a  sixth  sense,  for  which  he 
was  severely  criticised  by  Jeffrey. 

Sir  William  Hamilton  distinguished  absolute  and  relative  beauty.  "  Both  the 
imagination  and  the  understanding  find  occupation,  and  the  pleasure  an  object 
gives  us  is  in  proportion  to  the  gratification  these  faculties  derive  from  it." 

Addison  speaks  on  this  topic  in  his  immortal  "  Spectator,"  and  does  so  very 
ingeniously,  but  without  producing  anything  new.  Burke  teaches  that  beauty 
consists  merely  in  the  relaxation  of  the  muscular  fibre,  but  his  theory  was  de- 
molished with  one  sentence  from  Jeffrey's  pen,  namely,  by  directing  him  to  a 
warm  bath,  if  he  wished  to  realize  the  Beautiful.  An  able  critic  when  speaking 
of  this  author  said,  that  "  No  work  on  the  Beautiful  is  as  worthless  as  Burke's, 
and  that  none  is  read  as  widely  as  it. "  Jeffrey  no  doubt  said  a  smart  and  crush- 
ing word.  But  there  is  more  in  Burke's  theory  of  relaxation  than  his  contem- 
porary was  able  to  see.  I  shall  refer  to  this  theory  again. 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  advanced  the  idea  that  beauty  consists  in  mediocrity,  or 
in  conformity  to  that  which  is  most  usual.  Vox  Populi  may  be  Vox  Dei  in 
morals,  but  it  is  not  so  in  art.  This  is  a  low  view  of  the  Beautiful,  for  it  robs 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OP  THE  BEAUTIFUL.  117 

it  of  its  own  superiority.  Let  me  add,  however,  to  the  credit  of  Sir  Joshua,  that 
his  theory  is  of  French  and  not  of  English  origin. 

Allison  attributes  beauty  to  association,  in  which  he  leans  on  Diderot's  idea  of 
realism.  "  If  beauty  consists  merely  in  association,"  says  a  thinker,  "  then  the 
same  is  true  of  deformity,  for  association  is  capable  of  awakening  either."  The 
most  powerful  exposition  of  this  theory  of  association  is  that  given  by  Jeffrey.  He 
claims  that  the  emotions  seemingly  produced  by  art  and  objects  are  the  result  of 
association  of  recollection,  but  not  of  art-work  themselves.  There  is  some  truth 
in  the  theory,  but  it  does  not  hold  good  for  a  thorough  system.  Ruskin  and 
Blakie  gave  it  its  death-blow  and  there  is  scarcely  any  one  holding  it  now. 

Ruskin  says  the  term  Beauty  signifies  two  things.  First  the  external  quality 
of  bodies,  which  he  calls  the  typical  beauty ;  and  secondly,  the  appearance 
of  felicitous  fulfillment  of  function  in  living  things,  more  especially  a  perfect  life 
in  man.  This  kind  of  beauty  he  calls  vital  Beauty.  He  further  holds  that 
the  application  of  the  term  Beauty  to  any  other  appearance  or  quality  is  false. 
Thus  Ruskin  recognizes  a  Beauty  of  Body  and  a  Beauty  of  Spirit.  Undoubtedly 
the  ideal  Beauty,  that  which  constituted  the  Beautiful,  must  be  the  same  in 
both.  The  great  writer  denies  that  the  Beautiful  is  the  Useful.  He  denies  that 
it  is  dependent  on  custom  or  on  association.  Ruskin  is  also  Platonic  in  his  theo- 
ries in  so  far  that  he  seeks  the  ideal  of  Beauty  in  God. 

Spencer  teaches  that  all  the  aesthetic  activity  is  essentially  caused  by  the  play 
of  the  mind.  He  regards  the  aesthetic  pleasure  in  degree  according  to  the  num- 
ber of  powers  called  into  activity.  The  mere  pleasure  of  sensation  derived  from 
tone  or  color  he  considers  the  lowest.  A  step  higher  follows  the  pleasure  of  per- 
ceptions derived  from  a  combination  of  colors  and  symmetry  of  form ;  the  highest 
are  the  aesthetic  pleasures  proper,  derived  from  the  varied  emotions  existing  in 
the  mind  through  association.  The  idea  of  association  has  been  rejected  by 
Ruskin,  as  has  just  been  stated.  It  also  will  be  noticed  that  Spencer  places  the 
pleasurable  sensation  of  tone  and  color  lowest,  while  Schopenhauer  in  his  phi. 
losophy  of  music,  which  is  regarded  as  the  best  thus  far  produced,  places  music 
above  all  the  other  arts. 

But,  to  go  a  step  further,  there  were  philosophers  who  denied  the  existence  of 
the  Beautiful,  simply  because  it  cannot  be  proven  like  a  geometrical  problem ; 
because  mathematics  cannot  measure  and  calculate  it.  Because  the  Beautiful 
must  have  a  source  they  would  rather  deny  the  principle,  so  as  not  to  be  com- 
pelled to  acknowledge  its  divine  origin.  This  applies  to  Voltaire,  who  belongs  to 
this  class  of  negative  spirits.  He  says  :  "  Ask  a  toad  what  is  beautiful  and  he 
will  tell  you,  two  round  eyes,  a  big  mouth  and  a  yellow  throat.  Ask  a  Hottentot 
and  he  will  tell  you  that  beauty  is  a  black  skin,  thick  lips  and  a  flat  nose.  Ask 
the  Devil,"  continues  he,  "and  he  will  say  a  pah- of  horns,  four  claws  and  a  taiL 
Inquire  of  the  philosophers  and  they  will  answer  you  in  a  jargon. "  Voltaire 
would  rather  ask  the  Devil,  a  Hottentot  or  a  toad,  than  to  acknowledge  a  divine 
Beauty.  But  if  France  has  left  us  the  doubtful  legacy  of  Voltaire,  she  has  also 
left  us  other  writers  whose  words  we  must  not  overlook. 

Diderot  declared  that  beauty  was  an  inherent  quality  of  things,  that  it  was  a 
power  to  excite  sentiments  in  the  mind.  Thus  far  he  was  Platonic  and  correct, 
but  he  spoiled  matters  by  declaring  finally  that  beauty  depends  upon  relation  only. 


118  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

Hear  what  Victor  Cousin,  another  French  writer,  says:  In  his  "Du  Vrai, 
DuBeau  etDu  Bien,"  or  the  True,  the  Beautiful  and  the  Good,  he  declares 
that  "the  ideal  beauty  is  found  in  God." 

And  now  let  us  turn  our  attention  to  Germany,  and  hear  the  opinions  of  at 
least  a  few  of  her  great  metaphysical  speculators. 

Kant,  one  of  the  foremost,  if  not  the  most  noted  philosopher  even  to  this  day, 
says  that  the  sublime  cannot  be  contained  in  form  ;  that  it  can  dwell  only  in  the 
soul  of  man.  He  teaches  that  the  Beautiful  is  of  one  substance  with  the  Good 
and  True.  Accompanying  the  will  and  intelligence  there  is  a  mysterious  factor 
within  us,  commonly  called  the  imagination,  or,  perhaps  better,  the  phantasy,  in 
and  through  which  the  Beautiful  comes  to  be  recognized.  Here,  however,  the 
idea  is  not  uttered  in  action  or  in  thought,  but  is  enshrined  in  some  sensuous 
form  out  of  which  it  looks  directly  upon  the  soul.  There  is,  therefore,  accom- 
panying the  ethical  and  intelligent  worlds  an  art-work,  which  challenges  our 
attention  as  a  part  of  the  heritage  of  man. 

The  first  in  Germany  who  speculated  on  the  science  of  the  Beautiful,  and  who 
invented  the  word  aestheticism,  was  Baumgarten,  a  professor  at  Frankfort-on-the- 
Oder.  With  him,  the  Beautiful  is  the  result  of  the  highest  aesthetic  percep- 
tions to  the  realization  of  which  our  finer  natures  aspire. 

Wieland  follows  in  Kant's  footsteps,  and  claims,  as  has  already  been  stated, 
that  the  Beautiful  can  only  be  felt,  but  can  never  be  explained.  Schelling  holds 
to  Platonic  theories.  He  teaches  that  the  Beautiful  is  the  eternal,  bodily  repre- 
sented, and  that  the  highest  beauty  is  concentrated  in  God  and  expressed  in  the 
harmony  of  the  universe.  Hegel  claims  that  the  Beautiful  is  an  idea,  bodily 
represented  and  realizing  itself.  There  is  a  ceaseless  approximation,  a  continued 
attempting  to  realize  it,  but  no  full  realization  can  be  attained.  He  might  have  gone 
further  without  destroying  his  theory  or  himself,  by  saying  that  this  absolute  idea 
exists  in  God  and  cannot  be  realized,  because  the  finite  mind  cannot  comprehend 
the  infinite. 

Schiller  is  very  lucid.  He  does  not  admit  that  the  Beautiful  is  the  result  of 
mere  limited  experience,  but  pure  abstract  reflection.  It  originates  in  the  perfect 
union  of  matter  and  mind,  and  cannot  be  mere  life  or  mere  form.  Schiller  sought 
a  path  of  his  own  while  speculating  on  the  Beautiful,  but  he  could  not  free  him- 
self from  Kant's  influence.  He  says  that  "the  source  of  all  aesthetic  pleasure  is 
suitableness.  The  touching  and  sublime  elicit  this  feeling,  implying  the  existence 
of  unsuitableness."  He  further  says  that  "Beauty  is  the  work  of  free  contem- 
plation, and  we  enter  with  it  into  the  world  of  ideas,  but  without  leaving  the 
world  of  sense." 

Vischer  seeks  the  Beautiful  in  history,  but  be  this  history  sacred  or  profane, 
there  is  much  in  it  that  cannot  be  called  beautiful. 

I  might  here  quote  also  the  principles  of  Winckelmann  and  others,  but  this 
would  make  my  paper  too  lengthy. 

Hand,  who  views  this  subject  more  from  a  musical  standpoint,  says  that  "if 
the  speculators  on  the  Beautiful  had  taken  painting  and  music  more  into  consid- 
eration, they  would  have  avoided  many  errors,  for  many  theories  advanced  by  able 
writers  are  utterly  inapplicable  to  music.  Indeed,  many  philosophers  regarded 
the  Divine  art  as  mere  play,  totally  devoid  of  a  science.  Every  human  being 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OP  THE  BEAUTIFUL.  119 

has  an  idea  of  the  Beautiful,"  says  he,  "and  an  object  which  reaches  this  idea, 
which  moves  within  us  the  sense  of  admiration,  that  is  beautiful. ' '  He  acknowl- 
edges, however,  that  this  does  by  no  means  define  the  meaning  of  the  Beautiful. 
He  declares  that  it  is  only  perceptible  through  feeling  and  not  through  thought, 
and  that  it  exists  only  for  its  own  sake  and  for  no  other  purpose.  "  The  utilita- 
rian principle,"  he  asserts,  "has  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

Schopenhauer  is  partially  Platonic  in  his  theories,  but  his  original  propositions 
are  of  such  vast  importance  that  I  shall  give  a  few  of  his  leading  ideas.  He 
starts  out  by  saying  that  "An  object  affords  us  pleasure  only  in  so  far  as  it  relates 
to  our  wills  and  purpose.  But,"  continues  he,  "the  Beautiful  affords  us 
pleasure  without  affecting  our  will  or  purpose.  The  operations  of  the  will  dis- 
appear in  the  enjoyment  of  an  art  work.  The  will  is  the  cause  of  our  misery  in 
life.  When  looking  at  an  art  work  we  forget  the  will ;  the.  will  is  silenced  for 
a  time,  and  we  are  therefore  in  a  state  of  pure  will-less,  painless,  timeless  con- 
templation. The  will  is  the  source  of  our  desires  and  emotions ;  itlis  the  source  of 
our  wants  and  suffering.  But  no  gratification  here  can  completely  satisfy  us, 
and  thus  we  are  on  the  wheel  of  Ixion ;  we  pour  water  into  the  sieve  of  the 
Danites,  we  are  like  suffering  Tantalus.  By  looking  at  an  art  work  or  listening 
to  a  piece  of  fine  music,  we  are  suddenly,  and  of  course  only  temporarily,  removed 
from  this  endless  stream  of  wants ;  rest  and  quiet  is  established,  the  wheel  of 
Ixion  stands  still  and  we  are  happy — happy  whether  the  light  of  the  sun  shines 
upon  us  in  a  prison  or  in  a  palace. ' '  This,  no  doubt,  is  in  part  at  least,  what 
Burke  meant  when  speaking  of  the  relaxation  of  the  fibres. 

A  thing  is  beautiful  only  when  it  does  not  concern  us,  for,  says  our  author,  and 
here  we  meet  with  his  pessimism,  "  Life  is  never  beautiful,  while  the  picture  of 
it,  when  idealized  and  represented  in  the  mirror  of  art,  is."  Schopenhauer  con- 
siders light  the  greatest  diamond  in  the  cluster  of  the  Beautiful,  and  it  is  of 
decided  influence  upon  the  cognition  of  the  Beautiful  itself. 

While  Schopenhauer  regards  sunlight  as  the  diadem  among  the  objects  of  the 
Beautiful,  I  will  go  a  step  farther  and  point  to  Him  that  made  the  beautiful 
sunlight.  Nature  as  the  creation  of  God  is  greater  than  art,  which  is  the  pro- 
duct of  man's  mind  and  imagination.  Nature  is  superior  to  art,  and  as  the  real 
thing  is  always  superior  to  its  silent  representation,  so  God's  work  must  be 
superior  to  that  of  man.  There  are  writers  who  claim  that  man  is  the  ideal  of 
the  Beautiful,  who  according  to  Scripture  is  the  Temple  of  God.  It  must  be 
acknowledged  that  all  human  activity  is  but  a  reflection  of  the  power  of  God, 
hence  the  true  scholar  is  not  satisfied  in  his  reflections  to  stop  with  the  art  work, 
but  turns  from  it  to  the  mind  that  produces  it,  and  finally  ascribing  all  honors  to 
Him  that  has  made  all  things,  including  so  fearful  and  mysterious  a  power  as  the 
human  intellect.  As  God  created  the  world,  so,  in  a  limited  sense,  He  permits 
man  to  create  art  work,  so  that  by  his  representation  of  the  Beautiful  he  may 
show  forth  his  Divine  origin,  thereby  honoring  the  Great  Creator  from  whom 
came  all  good  things  and  to  whom  all  good  things  must  lead.  God  is  the  All- 
Beautiful,  as  He  is  the  All-Good,  the  All- Wise,  the  All-Just  and  the  All- 
Merciful.  All  beauty  is  concentrated  in  Him,  and  both  art  and  nature  are  made 
beautiful  so  that  we  may  see  God  in  His  beauty.  The  artist,  therefore,  who  pro- 
duces a  fine  work,  draws  his  inspirations,  whether  knowingly  or  not,  from  the 


120  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

Eternal  source  of  the  Beautiful,  he  brings  a  part  of  the  Eternal  Beauty  down  to 
man,  which  like  a  magnet  draws  us  up  again  to  the  source  from  whence  it  came. 
We  cannot  come  in  contact  with  anything  of  a  Divine  nature  without  being  made 
better  thereby.  Art  has  a  Divine  nature  and  to  teach  its  beauty  from  this  stand- 
point I  consider  one  of  the  noblest  occupations  man  or  woman  can  be  engaged 
in.  Heart  culture  coupled  with  a  love  for  the  Beautiful  is  a  blessing  to  any  peo- 
ple, for  the  Beautiful  and  the  Good  always  walk  hand  in  hand  ;  religion  and  pure 
art  are  akin ;  they  came  from  the  same  source  and  must  lead  to  the  same  end. 

To  be  aesthetic  means  to  perceive  and  to  enjoy  the  beautiful  in  art  and  nature. 
"As  logic  applies  to  thought,  aiming  ultimately  at  truth,"  says  a  writer,  "as 
Ethics  sets  forth  the  laws  of  morality,  referring  to  action,  so  ^Esthetics  apper- 
tains to  the  Beautiful,  which  appeals  primarily  to  sentiment. ' ' 

Nature  is  a  wonderful  texture,  interwoven  as  it  is  by  innumerable  objects  of 
beauty.  Who  can  name  them  all  ?  To  study  and  to  love  the  beauties  in  nature 
tends  to  produce  in  us  reverence ;  they  soften  us  down  and  make  us  more  attrac- 
tive. Virtue  is  virtue,  but  it  may  be  lovely  and  again  it  may  be  very  homely. 
Knowledge  is  knowledge,  but  it  may  sparkle  as  a  thing  of  beauty,  or  it  may  lie 
dull  and  inert  like  an  uncut  diamond.  Without  aesthetic  culture  the  best  man 
lacks  something.  He  may  be  learned,  he  may  be  honest  and  temperate,  but 
he  is  not  what  he  might  be,  had  he  developed  within  him  a  love  for  the 
Beautiful. 

And  now  that  I  have  come  to  the  end  of  my  discourse,  I  would  remind  you  of 
the  fact  that  the  Holy  Book  points  us  to  the  beauty  of  Holiness ;  it  speaks  often 
of  the  beauty  of  God's  Holiness;  it  portrays  to  us  the  beauty  of  the  character, 
and  it  says  that  this  world  shah1  be  made  beautiful  as  it  shall  be  made  good. 
Have  faith  then  in  the  final  victory  of  the  Beautiful,  as  you  have  faith  in  the 
final  victory  of  the  good.  If  God  loves  goodness,  he  also  loves  beauty.  If  He 
is  mighty,  He  is  also  lovely.  The  millenium  will  not  come  until  this  earth  shall 
have  been  made  beautiful,  until  the  desert  shall  rejoice  and  blossom  as  the  rose, 
"and  it  shall  blossom  abundantly  and  rejoice  with  joy  and  singing." 


A  PLEA  FOR  MUSIC. 


Music !  What  a  theme !  As  the  guardian  angel  is  said  to  follow  us  through 
life,  so  music  seems  to  be  ever  with  us  on  our  journey  from  the  cradle  to  the 
grave  !  The  little  infant  is  lulled  to  sleep  by  its  mother's  song,  and  scarcely  is 
its  tongue  loosened,  when  it  chimes  in,  trying  to  sing  in  unison  with  the  voice 
it  loves  so  well.  After  entering  the  school-room  and  the  Sabbath  school,  the  little 
one  takes  renewed  delight  in  vocal  exercises.  Notice  how,  forgetful  of  self, 
children  will  follow  a  hand-organ  through  the  streets,  while  the  sounds  of  a  mili- 
tary band  arouse  wild  enthusiasm.  The  songs  of  childhood,  the  songs  which  our 
mothers  sang,  who  can  ever  be  forgetful  of  their  charms?  When  love's  gentle 
impulses  for  the  first  time  take  possession  of  the  heart,  the  maiden  gives  expres- 
sion to  them  in  song,  while  the  youthful  lover  delights  in  a  serenade.  Oh,  how 
great  is  the  spell,  when  love's  young  dream  is  telling  its  story  through  the  medium 
of  melody.  We  scarcely  know,  then,  which  is  the  mightier — music  or  love !  In 
the  sanctuary  we  hear  the  peals  of  the  organ,  the  strains  of  the  choir,  and  tha 
mighty  song  of  the  congregation.  When  listening  with  a  believing  mind  and  a 
feeling  heart,  our  souls  are  wafted  upward  on  the  wings  of  song,  until  in  the 
imagination  we  are  in  the  blessed  realm  above.  Watch  the  soldier  when  he  hears 
the  bugle  call.  Notice  how  the  sound  enters  his  innermost  nature !  Ask  him 
what  it  is  that  stirs  him,  and  he  will  tell  you  that  those  strains  speak  alternately 
of  security  and  danger,  of  quiet  camp-life  and  of  terrible  strife.  Sing  the  old 
war  songs  before  our  veterans,  and  notice  the  effect.  The  one  becomes  excited 
and  chimes  in,  while  the  other  settles  down  into  quiet  reflection,  the  tears  stream- 
ing down  his  cheeks.  On  how  many  weary  marches  have  these  songs  been  a 
means  of  cheer  ?  How  often  have  they  inspired  the  fighting  soldier,  when  almost 
ready  to  give  up  in  the  face  of  overpowering  forces  ?  How  sad,  when  a  dirge  is 
played  over  the  grave  of  a  departed  comrade,  and  how  full  of  meaning  was  that 
short  bugle  call  which  was  sounded  after  Gen.  Grant's  remains  had  been  com- 
mitted to  their  last  resting  place.  The  brief  signal  said  "Lights  out,"  and  no 
doubt  it  conveyed  a  more  forcible  meaning  to  the  soldier's  heart  than  words  could 
have  conveyed.  I  have  witnessed  a  revolution  in  Europe,  and  from  personal  obser- 
vation can  testify  to  the  power  of  music  in  swaying  an  excited  crowd  of  people. 
It  was  song  that  imparted  to  the  timorous  populace  the  courage  to  resist  the  strong 
arm  of  the  militia.  Even  when  the  light  of  reason  has  gone  out,  music  follows 
man  into  this  darkest  period  of  his  existence.  Music  is  one  of  the  chief  joys  of 
those  unfortunates  who  are  confined  within  the  walls  of  insane  asylums,  and  it  is 
a  fact  but  little  known,  and  far  too  little  appreciated  by  our  medical  profession, 
that  many  a  shattered  mind  has  been  restored  to  reason  through  the  soothing 
influence  of  our  art.  Who  can  imagine  a  Fourth  of  July  celebration  without 

121 


122  MUSIC  AND   CULTUttE. 

music  ?  When  far  away  from  Lome  and  the  loved  ones,  what  language  is  so 
powerful  to  keep  alive  affections  and  pleasant  remembrances  of  our  birthplace, 
as  that  of  music?  The  strongest  heart,  that  has  endured  many  trials  and  braved 
many  dangers,  the  heart  that  has  learned  to  govern  its  emotions,  yields  to  the 
few  notes  that  make  up  the  little  tune  "Home,  sweet  Home ;  "  and  this  simple 
strain  has  been  the  means  of  bringing  many  a  wayward  wanderer  home  again. 
When  a  young  couple  is  about  to  take  upon  themselves  the  solemn  marriage  vow, 
the  brilliant  wedding  march  is  almost  certain  to  be  a  part  of  the  ceremonies,  and 
when  they  have  advanced  in  life  until  their  hair  is  frosty  and  their  steps  are 
tottering,  they  still  listen  with  indescribable  emotions  to  the  songs  of  old.  Though 
they  stand  on  the  brink  of  the  grave,  these  songs  carry  them  back  to  childhood's 
years,  and  with  a  fond  smile  they  view  once  more  the  scenes  of  their  youth. 

Ah,  the  old  tunes,  the  dear  old  songs,  how  easily  they  lead  us  along  the  whole 
of  life's  path  ;  they  cause  us  to  stop  at  the  places  where  we  plucked  the  fragrant 
flowers,  where  we  whiled  away  our  leisure  hours,  enjoying  the  sweets  of  tender, 
youthful  love.  The  eye  may  refuse  at  such  a  moment  to  shed  a  tear,  but  the 
heart  throbs  and  beats  wildly.  Even  when  our  voices  have  lost  their  former  full- 
ness, when  we  lie  stretched  feebly  on  the  last  couch  of  sickness,  when  night  is 
about  to  break  in  upon  our  earthly  career,  when  kind  friends  stand  by  our  side, 
waiting  with  sorrow  for  our  departure,  when  we  say  farewell  to  the  things  of  this 
life  and  wait  patiently  for  our  removal,  music  is  still  with  us,  and  in  faith  we 
sing  a  hymn  of  praise,  only  to  take  up  the  unfinished  strain  in  the  great  beyond, 
where  saints  stand  around  the  throne,  praising  Him  who  has  bid  us  exchange 
mortality  for  immortality,  and  who  has  called  us  to  dwell  in  that  great  mysterious 
realm,  from  which  music  comes  as  a  divine  inspiration. 

Doubtless  the  fact  that  the  love  for  music  as  well  as  its  cultivation  among  the 
people  is  so  general,  leads  many  to  view  it  from  their  own  standpoint,  which  is 
generally  one  of  limited  knowledge,  for,  say  they,  is  it  not  natural  to  sing,  is  it 
not  easy  to  catch  a  tune  ?  Many  believe  this  to  be  most  of  what  there  is  of 
music.  It  is,  however,  a  fact  worthy  of  notice,  that  while  learned  philosophers 
and  scientists  have  successfully  grappled  with  many  great  topics,  they  have  failed, 
as  yet,  to  discover  the  true  inward  nature  of  music.  Earth  is  not  its  nativity, 
hence  it  is  not  likely  that  we  shall  ever  fully  penetrate  its  mysteries.  Yet  it  is 
so  simple  to  our  minds  and  hearts,  so  easily  understood  and  so  readily  felt,  that 
to  speak  in  its  favor  is  like  holding  a  candle  out  of  doors  at  night,  in  order  that 
we  might  see  the  moon  or  behold  the  stars  in  all  their  beauty. 

In  the  estimation  of  many  persons,  and  even  of  learned  men,  our  beloved  art 
is  merely  a  pleasurable  sensation  and  nothing  more.  This  is  the  lowest  influence 
of  music,  but  let  us  bear  in  mind  that  even  in  the  production  of  pleasurable  sen- 
sations it  is  a  great  power.  It  may  not  have  occurred  to  these  persons  that  these 
influences  are  always  pure  and  refining,  provided  we  use  the  art  aright.  Music 
cannot  be  impure,  and  if  it  becomes  at  all  degrading  in  its  influence,  as  no  doubt 
it  sometimes  does,  it  is  not  so  by  its  own  nature,  but  through  its  connection  with 
improper  acts  and  words.  Music  has  a  higher  mission  than  merely  to  please  the 
ear.  It  is  the  art  which  appeals  most  powerfully  to  the  heart,  and  through  this 
affects  our  characters.  The  idea  that  music  has  no  higher  influences  than  simply 
to  produce,  for  the  tune  being,  pleasant  sensations,  has  done  much  harm  to  the 


A  PLEA  FOR  MUSIC.  123 

progress  of  the  art,  in  schools  as  well  as  among  the  people,  for  it  has  caused 
many  thinking  men  to  regard  music  with  a  good  portion  of  suspicion.  It  has 
always  been  a  great  disadvantage  to  our  beloved  art,  that  among  those  who  feel 
its  powers  most,  there  were  but  few  well  qualified  to  set  forth  its  benign  influence 
and  inward  operations.  Being  preeminently  emotional  in  their  natures,  they 
failed  to  view,  and  hence  to  teach,  the  art  from  an  intellectual  as  well  as  from  an 
emotional  standpoint.  On  the  other  hand,  philosophers,  who  are  preeminently 
brain-men,  could  not  enter  into  the  emotional  powers  of  the  art,  and  these  are, 
after  all,  its  true  key.  Relying  upon  mere  speculations  of  the  reasoning  faculties, 
the  real  powers  of  the  art  remained  a  mystery.  'Tis  easy  to  yield  to  emotions, 
but  it  is  difficult  to  analyze  them  ;  it  is  difficult  to  reduce  them  to  thought,  for 
just  as  soon  as  the  mind  steps  into  the  arena,  the  emotional  fire  wanes.  The  fact 
that  music  deals  with  our  emotional  natures  first,  leads  men  of  brain  to  snub  the 
art ;  they  look  down  upon  it  as  a  mere  pleasant  pastime.  Yes,  they  go  so  far  as 
to  charge  that  music  tends  to  weaken  character,  while  directly  the  opposite  is  the 
case,  as  I  hope  to  show.  I  am  aware  of  the  fact  that  in  claiming  refining  powers 
for  music,  I  have  many  weak  spots  to  meet  and  to  explain,  but  this  can  be  done. 
Says  a  writer,  refinement  of  mind  may  be  defined  as  an  act  or  process  of  putting 
the  faculties  into  the  condition  in  which  they  can  do  the  best  work,  appreciate 
the  nicest  distinctions,  value  properly  the  highest  ideals,  and  grasp  the  loftiest 
conceptions.  The  term  refinement,  says  the  same  writer,  is  generally  applied  to 
work  done  upon  valuable  material.  We  do  not  refine  iron,  but  only  gold  and 
silver ;  we  endeavor  to  instruct  the  ignorant  and  the  degraded,  but  we  speak  of 
refinement  only  in  connection  with  those  who  are  educated.  There  are  learned 
men  and  women  who  lack  the  very  first  traces  of  refinement,  while  there  are 
musicians  who  lack  a  good  education  and  a  correct  moral  training.  But  I  shall 
speak  on  this  point  in  another  place. 

The  mere  emotional  influences  of  the  art  alone  will  never  refine.  If  we  aim 
to  impart  culture,  we  must  do  it  through  subjects  that  are  worthy  of  the  human 
mind  as  well  as  the  heart.  Music  is  such  a  subject,  if  it  is  properly  presented 
and  rightly  taught.  Whatever  we  search  for  in  a  subject,  that  we  are  apt  to  find. 
He  who  seeks  in  music  mere  pleasurable  sensations,  will  find  what  he  seeks,  and 
he  who  searches  in  it  for  discipline  both  for  the  mind  and  heart,  will  no  doubt 
find  that  also.  He  who  seeks  but  shallow  reading,  can  find  it  in  the  domain  of 
literature ;  he  who  delights  in  crude  pictures  will  invest  no  money  in  works  of  the 
masters.  So  he  who  loves  the  shallow  in  music,  he  who  uses  it  merely  as  a 
pastime  or  as  a  means  of  show,  may  find  the  kind  of  music  that  responds  to  his 
tastes.  For  the  student,  however,  who  strives  higher  in  art,  there  is  much  in 
the  great  storehouse  of  musical  literature  that  is  worthy  of  his  closest  study.  If 
our  tastes  point  in  the  direction  of  music,  let  us  see  to  it  that  its  study  becomes 
a  means  of  refinement,  and  with  this  purpose  in  view,  let  us  pursue  our  work 
with  our  best  emotions  and  our  clearest  thought 

We  must  aim  to  be  intelligent  students ;  we  must  strive  to  see  more  in  music 
than  mere  pleasurable  sensations ;  we  should  study  it  as  an  art,  hence  we  must 
become  artists ;  that  is,  we  must  be  imbued  with  the  highest  love  for  and  the  best 
understanding  of  what  we  study.  To  make  it  a  refining,  elevating  medium,  we 
must  not  merely  be  players  and  singers,  but  also  art  students.  Strive,  then,  to 


124  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

become  thinking  as  well  as  feeling  musicians.  Believe  what  has  been  said  by 
those  who  know  most  about  our  art,  that  its  refining,  its  humanizing  influences 
deserve  our  closest  attention. 

A  taste  for  brutal  noise,  for  coarse  sounds,  goes  hand  in  hand  with  a  taste  for 
brutal  conduct.  A  taste  for  shallow  music  indicates  a  shallow  mind,  as  far  as 
musical  culture  is  concerned.  Cultivate  the  inborn  love  for  the  beautiful  in  any 
form  thoroughly,  and  it  is  sure  to  lead  to  a  love  of  the  beautiful  in  all  things ; 
and  again,  this  love  produces  a  dislike  for  ugliness,  in  morals  as  well  as  in  our  sur- 
roundings. Let  the  influence  of  your  studies  be  a  chastening  and  softening  of 
the  spirit.  Good  music  never  fails  to  enter  our  inner  natures,  and  if  at  all  rightly 
used,  it  cannot  fail  to  exercise  an  influence  for  good.  This  influence  I  claim  is 
eternal.  The  little  snowflake,  which,  in  ah1  its  purity  and  beauty,  falls  into  the 
ocean,  is  melted  instantly,  and,  as  far  as  our  eye  is  concerned,  it  has  forever 
vanished.  Yet  the  little  drop  of  sweet  water  it  contained  has  helped  to  sweeten 
and  to  increase  the  immense  body  of  water,  in  which  it  disappeared.  So  the 
honest  hearing  of  a  good  piece  of  music  cannot  be  without  some  lasting  influence, 
be  it  ever  so  feeble  or  ever  so  completely  hidden.  Every  beautiful  idea,  be  it 
expressed  in  marble,  in  colors,  in  words  or  in  tone,  comes  of  necessity  from  the 
one  source  of  the  beautiful  above,  and  is  it  at  all  reasonable  to  suppose  that  such 
repeated  influences  should  be  merely  transitory  in  their  character  ?  It  cannot  be  1 

No  doubt  God  had  a  great  and  wise  purpose  when  he  gave  us  music,  and  that 
it  was  given  to  us  with  a  purpose  is  manifested  by  the  love  for  music  that  lies  in 
the  hearts  of  all  right-feeling  people.  Is  not  the  same  true  of  that  religious  sense 
which  pervades  the  breasts  of  ah1  men,  let  them  be  ever  so  low  in  the  scale  of 
civilization  ? 

It  is  the  testimony  of  learned  musicians  everywhere,  that  the  art  is  inspiring, 
that  it  arouses  our  inner  natures,  that  it  awakens  powerful  emotions,  and  that  the 
higher  we  soar  in  its  realm,  for  the  time  being,  at  least,  the  less  we  care  for  the 
empty  things  of  this  world.  This  enthusiasm  is  not  what  some  characterize  it, 
a  selfish  indulgence,  but  it  is  a  pure  gratification.  This  enthusiasm  and  inspira- 
tion arises  from  our  coming  into  contact  with  works  of  beauty,  and  through  them 
with  some  of  the  best  and  loftiest  minds  that  ever  existed  here  on  earth.  This 
enthusiasm  is  akin  to  religious  zeal  and  devotion,  and  this  zeal  forever  forces  us 
onward  and  upward,  in  search  of  greater  beauty  and  perfection.  As  religious 
devotion  produces  the  spirit  of  missions,  so  the  lover  of  art  knows  no  greater 
pleasure  than  to  unfold  its  beauty  before  others,  that  they  too  may  enjoy  its 
benign  influences.  When  viewing  the  music  teacher's  work  from  this  standpoint, 
does  it  not  deserve  to  be  called  a  noble  work  ? 

In  common  with  all  musicians  who  have  studied  their  art  and  its  effects,  I 
ckim  for  it  refining  influences.  No  doubt  you  will  accept  this  as  a  truth,  yet  you 
cannot  fail  to  say,  behold  the  passions  of  musicians,  the  petty  rivalry  and  jealousy 
that  are  displayed  among  them  ;  are  not  these  also  the  effects  of  music  ?  No, 
they  are  not.  They  are  the  outcome  of  defects  in  character,  they  are  the  result 
of  a  defective  education.  Having  given  themselves  too  exclusively  to  music, 
having  enjoyed  and  studied  the  art  only  from  its  emotional  side,  they  neglected 
the  cultivation  of  the  mind  and  development  of  character,  hence  those  defects 
among  little  as  well  as  great  musicians,  which  are  so  offensive  in  our  sight. 


A  PLEA  FOR  MUSIC.  125 

Moreover,  musicians  of  prominence  are  too  often  flattered,  and  that  to  such 
an  extent,  that  what  little  strength  of  character  they  possess  is  almost  entirely 
destroyed.  Let  us  also  bear  in  mind  that  great  musicians  are  as  shining  lights, 
and  in  our  foolish  adoration,  we  often  fail  to  condemn  them  for  improper  acts. 
There  is  no  reason  why  genius  should  be  allowed  to  overstep  the  boundaries  of 
good  breeding,  and  if  public  condemnation  were  to  follow  swiftly,  even  the  most 
eccentric  of  musicians  would  be  more  careful  about  his  public  behavior.  The 
more  prominent  men  and  women  are,  the  more  we  notice  their  public  lives.  Bad 
behavior  in  common  mortals  hardly  produces  more  than  a  local  excitement ;  the 
misstep  and  degradation  of  a  prominent  musician  becomes  the  gossip  of  a  nation. 

A  father  and  his  daughter  once  visited  me,  the  object  of  their  call  being  a  con- 
sultation with  regard  to  the  latter 's  course  of  education.  There  was  a  radical 
difference  of  opinion  between  the  two,  and  I  was  evidently  chosen  as  arbiter  because 
the  daughter,  being  fond  of  music,  expected  me  to  decide  in  her  favor.  She 
desired  to  devote  herself  exclusively  to  music,  though  her  common  school  education 
was  deficient  My  advice  was  for  the  father  to  give  his  daughter  a  thorough 
literary  education,  allowing  her  at  the  same  time  to  study  music.  Turning  to  the 
young  lady  I  said,  ' '  If  one  of  the  two  must  be  delayed  or  neglected,  let  me  beg  you 
to  delay  or  neglect  music."  The  arts  are  educational  means,  but,  like  all  other 
branches  of  study,  they  are  merely  so  many  spokes  of  the  great  educational  wheel. 
A  musical  education  alone  must  produce  one-sided  results,  and  so  a  complete 
education  which  has  included  art  studies,  is  more  perfect  than  one  that  lacks 
such  culture. 

Man  is  a  social  being.  Says  a  writer :  "  Unselfish  society  is  the  harmony  of 
humanity,"  and  so  it  may  also  be  said,  that  kind  words  and  pleasant  interchange  of 
courtesies  are  the  music  of  social  life,  which  is  designed  to  enhance  human  love. 
Music  should  be  made  a  part  of  our  home  life,  of  our  school  life,  and  without 
fail  it  will  in  the  course  of  time  also  become  a  living  part  of  our  national  existence. 
Music  is  a  social  art ;  it  fills  many  hearts  with  the  same  emotions,  it  sets  many 
minds  to  work,  and  like  no  other  art,  oratory  perhaps  excepted,  it  arouses  large 
bodies  of  men  to  almost  superhuman  action.  We  scarcely  ever  meet  for  any  great 
object  but  that  music  is  drawn  in  and  is  made  to  serve  a  purpose.  Is  it  simply 
to  pass  time  ?  No,  it  is  introduced  in  order  to  lend  additional  charms  to  the  pro- 
ceedings and  exercises,  in  order  to  arouse  pure  sentiment,  to  strengthen  enthusiasm 
for  a  good  cause,  to  unite  those  who  meet  in  the  assembly ;  and  thus  the  art  is 
often  ignorantly  used  for  good  purposes,  even  by  men  who  have  but  a  low  opinion 
of  it.  As  a  people  we  need  every  good  agent  to  help  along  the  cause  of  culture 
and  refinement.  Wherever  art  plants  its  foot,  the  tendency  is  to  tone  down  and 
to  moderate  our  well-known  national  self-assertion,  our  aggressiveness,  our  youth- 
ful boisterous  roughness,  which  many  mistake  for  independence  of  character. 
Americans  delight  in  boasting  of  their  liberties,  but  they  are  often  slaves  to 
business  and  speculation.  This  is  our  national  failing.  We  need  more  restful- 
ness,  more  reserve,  and  art  studies  are  among  the  best  means  to  bring  about  such 
a  result,  for  meditation  about  art  and  the  looking  at  fine  art  works  causes  us  to 
lose  sight  of  the  world  without  Bough  people  take  no  delight  in  art,  yet  it  is 
created  for  them,  just  as  religion  exists  for  the  benefit  of  the  unconverted.  Many 
persons  lack  all  culture  and  refinement,  they  even  lack  good  breeding  and  polite 


126  MUSIC  AN1>   CULTUKK 

manners.  They  prefer  noise,  loud  talking  and  rough  sports  to  the  gentler  in- 
fluences of  art  and  literature.  You  can  scarcely  arouse  them  to  enthusiasm, 
except  it  be  in  the  gratification  of  their  lower  natures.  Young  people  quickly 
show  by  their  outward  appearance,  by  the  choice  of  their  amusements  and  social 
preferences,  what  their  true  inwardness  is.  Alas !  people  say,  boys  must  be  boys, 
and  under  this  plea  much  rudeness  and  offensive  conduct  is  tolerated.  We  need 
social  agents  designed  to  lift  us  out  of  our  daily  routine  life,  to  turn  boys  from 
the  ways  of  boisterous  roughness ;  we  need  agents  to  awaken  sentiment,  agents 
that  shah1  prove  sweet  harmonizers  between  the  outer  and  inner  man.  Music  is 
such  an  agent,  and  while  as  a  people  we  love  it  and  take  readily  to  it,  we  fail  to 
cultivate  it  sufficiently  as  an  art,  and  for  this  reason  we  fail  as  yet  to  derive  the 
fullest  benefit  from  it.  Our  art  efforts,  like  our  church  enterprises,  must  be  indi- 
vidual efforts,  for  our  government,  unlike  those  of  European  countries,  can  do 
nothing  directly  for  the  advancement  of  art  culture.  The  unsupervised  and  ill- 
directed  effort  of  individuals  unfitted  to  teach  music,  retards  its  growth.  But 
its  slow  development  is  no  argument  against  its  ennobling  mission,  nor  against  its 
final  success.  Look  at  the  immense  machinery  that  is  set  to  work  to  christianize 
and  to  educate  mankind,  and  notice  its  slow  progress.  Music  is  the  youngest  art ; 
it  is  only  now  in  its  highest  state  of  development ;  let  us  give  it  as  much  time  as 
we  have  accorded  to  religion,  to  education,  before  we  indict  it  as  being  without 
lasting  and  ennobling  influences.  Only  of  late  years  is  our  musical  profession 
rising  to  a  higher  level,  and  the  most  surprising  results  already  have  been  attained. 
That  music  is  making  rapid  strides  in  this  direction,  the  most  short-sighted  should 
be  willing  to  acknowledge.  Notice  the  increase  of  cheap  popular  concerts  in  our 
cities ;  notice  the  numerous  bands  which  play  in  public  parks ;  observe  how 
deeply  music  is  striking  root  in  our  public  school  system,  and  then  say  whether 
or  not  we  are  on  a  fair  way  toward  becoming  a  musical  people.  And  right  here 
let  me  repeat  what  I  said  in  the  Musical  World  recently :  "  It  is  undeniably  true 
that  our  public  school  education  falls  short  in  the  development  of  the  child's 
emotional  and  imaginative  faculties.  Music  is  one  of  the  best  means  at  our  com- 
mand to  awaken  sentiment,  yet  there  are  teachers  who  make  great  pretensions  as 
educators,  who  speak  boastingly  of  training  the  whole  child,  but  who  would  not 
lift  a  finger  in  behalf  of  music  as  a  branch  of  public  school  education.  How 
short-sighted  and  inconsistent !  " 

But  look  still  closer  at  our  national  musical  progress.  Concert  programmes  are 
multiplying  and  improving,  and  likewise  the  standard  of  public  performances  is 
rising.  More  copies  of  standard  musical  works  are  sold,  musical  literature  is  im- 
proving, the  taste  is  better  and  purer  than  at  any  previous  time,  music  schools 
are  increasing  and  charlatans  are  driven  into  the  backwoods.  If  you  as  future 
teachers  would  be  useful  and  stand  in  the  ranks  of  the  profession,  you  must  study 
the  masters.  "With  light  music  you  will  hardly  get  along  any  more,  for  where 
you  least  expect  it,  you  will  be  asked  to  use  these  great  works.  Prepare  your- 
selves, therefore,  that  you  may  be  up  to  the  standard  of  the  profession. 

It  has  been  said  that  Music  is  a  great  art ;  it  binds  together  rational  natures ; 
hence  it  has  a  high  moral  influence  in  the  family,  and  for  this  reason  all  thinking 
people  love  to  foster  it  at  home.  A  musical  home  is  a  happy  home.  Ill-natured, 
cross-grained  people  rarely  love  music ;  why  they  would  hardly  whistle  a  tune. 


A  PLEA  FOB  MUSIC.  127 

But  then  music,  if  it  once  permeates  the  heart's  feelings,  drives  out  ugliness; 
ill-nature  and  music  cannot  exist  together,  for  the  heart  that  comes  under  the 
spell  of  good  music  is  thereby  made  ready  for  good  deeds.  Parents  who  fail  to 
cultivate  the  musical  gifts  of  their  children  deprive  them,  and  through  them  the 
coming  generations,  of  that  moral  and  intellectual  legacy  which  is  due  them. 
And  just  as  music  is  a  power  in  the  family,  so  it  is  in  the  world  at  large.  The 
Reformation  came  a  little  later  than  printing,  but  it  came  with  the  first  artistic 
development  of  music.  Says  a  writer :  "  Had  the  Reformation  occurred  among 
a  people  less  musical  than  the  Germans,  it  is  a  doubtful  problem  whether  it  would 
have  succeeded  as  well  as  it  did. ' '  Music  is  a  means  to  refine  and  to  elevate  social 
solitude.  But  if  music  is  a  social  art,  if  it  inspires  numbers,  it  is  also  a  true 
friend.  In  fact,  it  is  best  felt  when  alone,  just  as  the  most  fervent  prayers  are 
offered  in  private.  It  is  good  for  us  to  seek  solitude,  it  is  beneficial  to  meditate. 
Go  in  the  evening  to  the  doors  of  musicians'  rooms  and  listen,  and  there  you 
will  hear  their  hearts'  best  emotions  poured  out  upon  their  instruments.  I  can 
conceive  of  no  greater  pleasure  than  to  express  my  emotions  upon  my  instrument, 
unheard  by  man.  When  in  the  twilight  hours  there  comes  a  feeling  of  yearning, 
a  feeling  of  loneliness,  I  find  no  words  to  express  my  emotions ;  but  through  the 
medium  of  music  I  can  tell  all  I  feel,  and  in  this  expression  of  my  inmost  emo- 
tions, I  find  relief.  We  are  so  constituted  that  we  must  give  vent  to  our  feelings, 
and  because  there  are  sentiments  the  words  cannot  convey,  music  was  appointed 
to  serve  man.  When  I  am  thus  alone  with  my  art,  the  masters  come  and  go ; 
they  visit  me  in  spirit,  and  the  air  is  as  full  of  music  as  it  would  be  full  of  fra- 
grance, had  the  room  been  filled  with  flowers. 

And  then  at  such,  an  hour  the  soul  often  rises  on  the  pinions  of  song  to  the  very 
footstool  of  grace,  for  music  being  a  divine  language,  the  language  of  the  heart, 
is  well  understood  by  our  heavenly  Father.  Yet  there  are  those  who  say  that 
music  is  only  a  plaything,  a  recreation,  a  very  agreeable  pastime.  Music,  say 
some,  is  good  enough  for  girls,  but  is  illy  suited  to  boys.  In  Europe,  boys  as 
well  as  girls  study  music ;  hence,  everywhere  in  that  country  will  you  find  states- 
men, generals,  priests  and  bishops,  professors  as  well  as  students,  bankers  as  well 
as  merchants,  practice  the  art.  Some  of  these  amateurs,  such  as  Thibault, 
Ambros,  Hauslick,  and  others,  became  famous  in  the  world  of  music.  The  much 
lamented  Emperor  Frederic  was  a  good  pianist,  while  the  celebrated  Moltke,  the 
general  whose  wars  are  beyond  comparison  on  account  of  their  brilliancy,  played 
the  piano.  Yet  his  musical  knowledge  did  not  detract  anything  from  him  in  the 
fields  of  his  profession ;  he  was  as  brave  a  fighter  as  ever  lived.  Would  that 
American  boys  could  be  more  thoroughly  imbued  with  an  art  spirit ;  would 
they  could  be  divested  of  that  destructiveness  and  loudness  that  is  displayed  by 
some.  Their  better  natures  would  be  called  forth  through  the  aid  of  music ; 
the  hidden  springs  of  their  affections  would  be  unearthed,  so  that  they  could 
flow  more  freely.  Oh,  let  us  open  the  windows  of  our  souls,  so  that  the  light  of 
love  may  shine  in  freely,  for  love  should  be  our  soul's  normal  condition.  How 
often,  when  hearing  or  when  playing  good  music,  do  I  say,  God  be  praised  for 
such  precious  gifts,  and  my  heart  then,  methinks,  is  large  enough  to  love  a 
universe. 

'Tis  pleasant  to  express  one's  sentiments  ;  all  good  people  delight  in  that  which 


128  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

appeals  to  their  better  natures ;  the  heart  seems  ready  for  it,  as  a  niche  is  ready 
for  the  statue,  or  the  vase  is  ready  for  the  flowers.  No  one  is  contented  with  the 
actual ;  it  is  the  nature  of  all  intelligent  beings  to  aim  at  the  beyond,  the  super- 
natural, and  music  is  one  of  the  most  pleasant  roads  that  leads  that  way.  Our 
consciences  tell  us  what  is  right,  says  a  philosopher,  but  they  never  would  lead 
us  in  the  path  of  the  beautiful.  To  strive  after  the  beautiful  is,  in  a  measure, 
equal  to  striving  for  the  good,  for  both  come  from  and  lead  to  the  same  source. 
The  beautiful  surely  leads  to  some  sort  of  progress ;  it  cannot  be  otherwise.  It 
comes  from  heaven  and  it  brings  heaven  down  to  us ;  not  a  heaven  too  great  for 
our  comprehension,  but  a  heaven  just  fitted  for  our  human  needs,  for  our  hearts 
and  homes. 

Music  is  a  language.  Without  language  we  would  not  be  the  human  beings  we 
are.  Language  gives  expression  to  thoughts,  and  because  men  are  differently 
constituted,  we  have  a  great  diversity  of  dialects.  Language  is  of  a  people  ;  it 
expresses  a  people's  thought,  and  he  who  learns  it,  enters  into  another  nation's 
spirit ;  he  who  masters  a  language,  so  to  speak,  multiplies  himself. 

The  emotional  world,  also,  needs  a  language.  All  human  hearts  are  akin  in 
their  feelings,  all  humanity  feels  alike.  Music  is  preeminently  the  language  of 
the  emotions,  it  is  the  language  of  the  heart.  When  comparing  the  language  of 
words  to  that  of  music,  Thomas  Moore  says : — 

"Music,  oh,  how  faint,  how  weak ; 

Language  fades  before  thy  spell ; 
Why  should  Feeling  ever  speak 
When  thou  canst  breathe  her  soul  so  well?" 

If  this  language  of  the  heart  had  not  been  needed,  God  would  not  have  given 
it  to  us,  neither  would  he  have  given  us  the  power  of  understanding  it.  This  lan- 
guage of  the  heart,  this  music,  brings  all  humanity  into  one  household  ;  it  is  the 
language  of  the  brotherhood  of  man,  while  literature  brings  us  only  together  in 
the  republic  of  letters.  Which  is  the  greater,  the  head  or  the  heart  ?  Let  me 
answer  by  saying  that  God  asks  for  our  hearts,  not  for  our  brains.  Are  these  not 
reasons  why  we  should  study  this  universal  language  ?  Through  its  medium,  we 
can  speak  to  and  reach  the  hearts  of  those  whose  words  we  cannot  understand. 
The  characters  of  this  language  are  substantially  the  same  the  world  over.  In 
studying  our  beloved  art,  we  learn-  to  speak  a  world's  language,  and  that  the  only 
world's  language  we  know  of.  Its  spirit  unites,  permeates  and  controls  humanity. 
Music  expresses  more  than  the  word,  in  fact,  all  musical  writers  agree  that  where 
the  word  fails,  the  full  meaning  of  Music  only  begins.  Says  Wagner  :  "  The  tone 
language  is  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  the  word  language,  just  as  sentiment  is 
the  beginning  and  the  end  of  the  intellect,  just  as  the  Myth  is  the  beginning  and 
the  end  of  history,  and  the  Lyre  the  beginning  and  end  of  poetry."  Schumann 
says :  "  That  would;  indeed  be  a  small  art  that  only  gives  us  sounds  and  no  lan- 
guage, no  expressions  for  the  conditions  of  the  soul."  Music  tells  us  far  more 
than  the  heart  can  take  in,  hence  the  art  is  inexhaustible  ;  the  deeper  we  study 
the  more  music  reveals  to  us. 

Pure  art  music  is  but  little  understood,  even  by  many  of  our  best  educated 
men.  The  masses  lack  as  yet  the  depth  of  sentiment,  as  well  as  the  mental 


A  PLEA  FOR  MUSIC.  129 

capacity,  to  understand  the  full  meaning  of  the  works  of  the  masters.  To 
appreciate  the  heart  language  of  a  Beethoven,  presupposes  a  good  degree  of 
culture.  The  mental  strain  required  to  understand  it  is  too  great  for  the 
uncultivated,  hence  they  cannot  understand  it  as  well  as  he  who  has  spoken  this 
language  for  many  years ;  yet  the  charge  is  that  music  is  a  mere  plaything,  a 
pastime.  Despite  the  depth  of  good  music,  it  is  never  listened  to,  by  the  uniniti- 
ated even,  without  some  profound  expressions.  Good  music  properly  played  never 
fails  to  touch  us.  Yet  there  are  many  who,  after  listening  to  the  works  of  the 
masters,  are  much  in  the  same  position  as  was  the  Western  editor  who,  after 
listening  to  a  lecture  by  Emerson,  turned  to  his  neighbor  and  said  :  "  What  does 
he  mean  ?  "  A  grand  musical  composition  expresses  the  composer's  inner  life  far 
better  than  would  the  best  biography.  To  draw  near  to  the  feeling  hearts  and 
the  powerful  minds  of  our  great  masters  is  indeed  a  privilege  to  be  highly  valued. 
Through  their  works  we  are  made  partakers  of  their  greatest  joys  and  deepest 
sorrows,  and  on  the  pinions  of  their  inspirations  we  rise  to  heights  we  never 
reached  before.  If  the  unmusical  could  but  read  in  words  what  these  master 
minds  have  said  in  tones,  how  much  they  would  enjoy  such  literature,  and  to 
what  a  high  place  they  would  assign  these  works. 

Man  uses  human  language  to  express  vileness  and  deceit;  men  swear  and 
blaspheme  in  the  language  of  words,  but  no  one  can  swear,  no  one  can  blaspheme 
in  music ;  it  cannot  revile.  It  is  the  language  of  heaven,  for  it  seems  to  be  the 
only  one  admitted  there.  All  art  is  pure,  all  art  is  sacred,  and  the  works  of  our 
masters,  as  far  as  they  are  not  coupled  with  objectionable  words  or  actions,  are  all 
sacred  music ;  they  are  the  profoundest  utterances  of  human  hearts.  Who  would 
dare  to  play  with  such  an  art  ?  who  would  dare  to  play  with  the  works  of  such 
masters  ?  who  would  use  such  an  art  for  selfish  purposes,  for  the  low  purpose  of 
flattering  one's  own  vanity  ?  Such  an  art  must  be  carefully  and  sincerely  studied  : 
alas,  rather  than  do  this,  young  people  prefer  musical  small  talk,  and  rather  than 
to  train  the  masses  to  rise  to  a  comprehension  of  the  pure  and  good  in  art,  many 
teachers  are  satisfied  to  teach  this  small  talk,  and  to  train  pupils  to  repeat  it,  as 
birds  are  trained  to  sing.  Much  of  such  small  talk  is  often  heard  in  our  homes, 
in  schools,  and  in  concerts,  yet  the  question  may  well  be  asked,  What  must  be  the 
effect  of  great  and  pure  works,  if  even  this  musical  small  talk  is  so  pleasing  to  the 
ear  and  the  heart  ? 

But  say  some,  music  is  emotional  and  not  intellectual,  hence  it  deserves  no 
place  by  the  side  of  other  studies  in  the  curriculum.  Stupid  talk  1  As  a  study, 
music  is  highly  intellectual.  He  who  would  learn  it,  must  read  new  signs,  more 
varied  in  their  character  than  arc  those  in  the  Greek  language  or  in  chemistry. 
The  study  of  music  implies  at  least  some  mathematics,  and  he  who  wishes  to 
enter  the  mysteries  of  acoustics  must  have  mastered  the  science  of  numbers.  The 
study  of  music  implies  a  knowledge  of  rhythms  more  varied  than  are  those  in 
Greek,  Latin,  or  English  poetry.  It  implies  correct  time  and  correct  phrasing. 
The  student  must  grasp  the  melody  as  well  as  the  harmony,  he  must  read  many 
notes  at  once,  and  not  only  that,  he  must  produce  them  instantaneously  upon 
his  instrument.  Not  only  must  he  touch  many  keys  at  once;  he  must  strike 
them  with  the  proper  degree  of  strength,  rapidity  and  feeling,  and  while  his  eye 
reads,  while  his  hands  play,  his  feet  must  properly  manage  the  pedals.  To  drink 
9 


130  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

in,  and  to  reproduce  quickly  the  spirit  of  a  composition  is  in  itself  difficult,  yet 
this  is  done  in  connection  with  such  a  multiplicity  of  mental  actions,  that  it  is 
surprising  how  the  human  mind  can  perform  them  all  at  once.  Music  undoubtedly 
develops  the  mind  in  many  directions,  and  yet  it  is  said  that  the  art  is  not  intellectual. 
But  let  us  go  still  further  and  enter  the  composer's  laboratory.  The  poet  or 
prose  writer  has  his  manuscript  before  him,  and  he  may  alter  and  change  it  until 
it  expresses  his  ideas.  The  painter  constantly  watches  the  effect  of  his  colors  on 
canvas  as  he  puts  them  on,  but  the  composer  must  write  a  complicated  score  of 
instruments  and  voices,  without  hearing  a  sound.  All  these  artists  quietly  exhibit 
their  work  after  it  is  finished,  but  the  player  or  singer  steps  before  the  public  and 
there  executes  his  art  work.  Surely  a  musical  performance  is  a  marvel  in  itself. 
How  many  keys  does  a  Sherwood  or  a  Mrs.  King  strike  during  an  evening,  and  yet 
each  must  be  struck  at  the  proper  time  and  in  the  proper  manner.  Notice  how 
these  artists  perform  whole  programmes  from  memory,  and  this  they  do  with  the 
utmost  accuracy  and  dexterity.  Some  great  singers  know  as  many  as  forty  operas 
by  heart,  each  of  which  requires  hours  for  a  hearing.  Where  are  the  orators  that 
remember  forty  lectures?  And  yet  there  are  some  who  say  music  is  not  intellectual. 
Look  at  the  study  of  harmony,  counterpoint  and  fugue,  examine  the  mysteries  of 
orchestration  in  all  its  wonderful  tone  colorings,  look  at  the  study  of  musical  his- 
tory and  biography,  take  a  glance  at  musical  philosophy  and  aesthetics,  and  then 
answer  the  question  whether  or  not  the  study  of  music  requires  thought.  Lan- 
guages and  sciences  may  be  mastered  in  far  shorter  tune  than  it  requires  to  fully 
master  music  in  all  its  branches.  Educational  history  tells  us  that  for  centuries 
our  art  has  held  its  place  in  the  universities  of  England.  It  is  now  taught  in 
all  German  universities,  and  this,  no  doubt,  is  also  a  testimony  in  favor  of  the 
intellectuality  of  music.  Even  the  ancient  Grecians  had  a  musical  system  that 
requires  the  acutest  mind  to  understand,  and  this  is  also  true  of  many  Persian 
and  Arabian  musical  works.  But  let  us  take  another  interpretation  of  the  term 
intellectual ;  let  us  regard  it  as  meaning  a  natural  constant  preference  for  higher 
thoughts  over  lower,  and  according  to  this  definition,  music  will  have  to  be 
regarded  as  an  intellectual  study. 

The  performance  of  a  piece  of  music  may  not  arouse  or  call  into  activity  the 
faculty  of  reason,  but  then,  let  me  ask,  does  poetry  or  does  a  prayer  do  so  ?  Are 
we  reasoning  when  looking  at  a  pretty  picture  or  a  fine  statue  ?  Of  course  we 
begin  to  reason  as  soon  as  we  begin  to  criticise  and  analyze  a  work  of  art,  and  this 
holds  true,  also,  with  reference  to  music.  Having  viewed  the  artist's  work  so  far, 
let  u?  now  measure,  if  we  can,  the  flight  of  his  imagination  when  composing  or  per- 
forming an  art  work,  let  us  listen  to  the  wild  beatings  of  his  heart,  and  the  artistic 
work  becomes  still  more  intellectual.  Everything  that  calls  into  activity  our  spirit- 
ual natures  is  intellectual ;  and  who  dares  to  deny  that  music  does  this  to  a 
high'  degree  ?  Why  such  an  art  should  be  regarded  as  a  mere  plaything,  why  it 
should  be  treated  as  stepmotherly,  as  it  is  treated  in  many  schools  and  by  many 
learned  men,  I  cannot  comprehend. 

The  normal  sentiment  of  the  human  heart  is,  or  ought  to  be,  love.  Music  is 
love  in  its  purest  essence.  Berlioz  said  somewhere,  "Which  one  of  the  two 
powers  may  lift  man  to  the  highest  plane,  love  or  music  ?  That  is  a  problem. 
But  it  seems  one  might  say,  love  cannot  give  us  an  idea  of  music,  while  music 


A  PLEA  FOE  MUSIC.  131 

expresses  love."  And  then  he  bursts  out  by  saying,  "But  why  separate  the  one 
from  the  other?  Are  they  not  the  two  wings  of  the  soul?  "  Weber  said,  What 
love  is  to  man,  that  music  is  to  the  arts,  for  it  is  love  itself.  It  is  the  most  aes- 
thetic language  of  the  passions.  Love  also  is  the  essence  of  religion,  hence  they 
are  closely  allied.  Every  good  piece  of  music  therefore  is  religious,  for  it  ex- 
presses love,  and  to  take  into  our  hearts  this  love,  to  express  it  again  in  tones, 
that  is  and  always  must  be  one  of  the  most  edifying  acts  we  can  engage  in.  Oh ! 
that  we  might  see  the  art  in  ah1  its  grandeur,  purity  and  loveliness!  Luther 
fairly  bubbled  over  with  powerful  sayings  when  speaking  of  it,  and  in  one  of  his 
table  talks,  he  places  the  art  next  to  theology.  If  the  art  you  study  is  a  social, 
emotional,  intellectual  and  religious  agent,  if  it  is  a  blessing,  let  us  use  it,  study 
and  enjoy  it  as  a  blessing.  Be  impressed  with  the  fact  that  your  studies  are 
worthy  of  your  most  serious  attention.  View  your  art  always  from  its  sacred 
side,  aim  to  rise  as  high  as  you  can,  and  you  will  be  happy  in  your  work — nay, 
more,  you  will  be  fitted  to  use  your  attainments  as  a  blessing  to  others  as  well  as 
yourselves. 


THE  VALUE  OF  A  MUSICAL  EDUCATION. 


It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  all  should  study  music  as  a  science  or  as  an  art. 
but  it  is  expected  that  people  of  culture  should  know  something  about  it;  Place 
yourselves  under  the  benign  influences  of  the  divine  art,  and  you  will  not  regret  it. 
Learn  to  love  good  music ;  cultivate  your  taste  as  much  as  possible. 

When  I  first  'entered  this  pleasant  field  of  usefulness,  I  perceived  the  neces- 
sity of  meeting  music  pupils  collectively  at  least  once  in  a  week.  Would  that 
we  could  meet  oftener,  for  there  is  much  to  be  said,  and  there  is  always 
inspiration  in  larger  gatherings.  The  student  who  plods  along  on  the  road  of 
learning  without  associates,  the  student  who  never  meets  those  that  are  engaged 
with  hun  in  the  same  work,  is  apt  to  become  self-sufficient  and  conceited,  or  per- 
chance he  become  independent.  At  any  rate,  he  fails  to  develop  a  spirit  of  com- 
petition and  a  wholesome  emulation.  Students  should  meet  students  at  proper 
places  and  at  proper  times ;  they  should  hear  and  see  what  others  do.  There  is 
always  a  great  deal  of  good  coming  from  class-work,  for  in  the  class-room  the 
student  may  realize  his  own  standing,  his  degree  of  proficiency  and  growth,  and 
in  the  class-room  the  sluggard  is  often  stirred  up  to  greater  activity.  Private 
instruction  is  absolutely  necessary  for  those  who  aim  to  master  an  art,  but  class 
instruction  should  not  be  neglected  on  this  account.  That  there  is  more  in  music 
than  mere  playing  and  singing,  that  there  is  something  objective,  something  abso- 
lute, spiritual,  elevating,  eternal,  yes,  that  there  is  something  divine  in  our  art,  I 
desire  you  to  realize ;  that  music,  as  an  art,  does  not  depend  upon  the  frail  criti- 
cism of  the  uninitiated.  It  is  necessary  that  you  should  be  made  to  believe,  at  the 
very  outset  of  your  career  as  students,  that  there  is  something  higher  in  music 
than  that  which  the  masses  see  or  hear  in  it ;  those  who  know  nothing  about  aes- 
thetic or  artistic  enjoyments ;  those  who  assert  that  there  is  no  more  in  art  than 
they  themselves  realize  and  recognize.  It  is  my  duty  to  lift  you  up ;  to  give  you 
higher  ideas  of  art  and  artists.  It  is  my  duty  to  lead  you  onward  and  upward  on 
that  golden  path  of  beauty,  as  it  is  revealed  in  art,  feeling  certain  that  you  will 
also  learn  to  love  and  to  adore  the  source  from  whence  cometh  all  this  beauty.  In 
order  to  accomplish  this,  I  must  give  you  weekly  instructions,  for  these  lessons 
will  never  come  to  you  through  mere  playing  or  hearing  music.  A  good  technique 
is  not  sufficient ;  nay,  there  must  be  understanding  as  well  as  execution.  So,  in 
the  reverse  order,  musical  instruction,  without  hearing  good  music,  avails  but 
little.  Hearing,  without  understanding,  is  as  the  top  of  the  tree  without  life- 
sustaining  roots,  and  so  understanding  without  hearing  good  music,  is  all  root  and 
trunk,  without  flowers,  leaves  and  fruits.  You  see,  therefore,  the  necessity  of 
both  lectures  and  recitals ;  they  supplement  each  other,  for  the  lecture  prepares 
the  mind  to  hear  aright.  In  order  that  you  may  become  well-rounded  and  intel- 
ligent teachers  and  musicians,  you  must  be  educated  as  thinking  and  feeling  men 

132 


THE  VALUE  OF  A  MUSICAL  EDUCATION.  133 

and  women.  The  lecture  sets  you  to  thinking,  while  the  recital  arouses  and  culti- 
vates your  feelings  as  well  as  your  art-taste.  In  order  to  enjoy  an  art,  you  must 
understand  it ;  the  more  you  think  about  it,  the  deeper  will  become  your  emotions, 
and  the  more  you  thus  study  your  art  from  its  twofold  sides,  the  more  effectively 
thought  and  sentiment  will  harmonize  and  develop  within  you.  Sentiment  is 
the  top-soil  in  which  grows  our  art,  but  let  us  see  to  it  that  our  emotions  are 
pure,  so  that  the  thoughts  arising  from  them  may  also  be  pure.  These  plants 
must  be  carefully  nurtured,  for  they  never  develop  well  without  fostering  care. 
You  perceive  from  this  that  both  lectures  and  recitals  are  needful  for  your  musical 
growth.  They  help  to  surround  you  with  a  musical  atmosphere,  which  is  sure  to 
be  conducive  to  a  healthy  musical  growth.  I  therefore  commend  such  exercises 
to  you,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  no  music  student  will  absent  himself  from  them 
without  good  cause. 

Let  me  ask  you  to  remember  that  our  life's  journey  is  divided  into  smaller  por- 
tions by  certain  events.  These  events  appear  as  huge  milestones,  and  are  rarely 
ever  lost  sight  of.  Your  entrance  into  an  institution  of  learning  is  one  of  these 
milestones,  for  no  matter  how  old  you  may  become,  you  will  always  look  back  upon 
your  stay  there  as  one  of  the  most  important  events  of  your  lives.  It  is  in 
accordance  with  our  natures,  that,  when  entering  upon  certain  new  phases  in  life, 
our  minds  and  hearts  are  more  receptive  than  usual,  and  to  be  permitted  to  make 
impressions  upon  hearts  and  minds  in  this  condition  is  one  of  the  greatest  privi- 
leges a  teacher  can  enjoy.  Some  of  you  are  for  the  first  time  entering  college 
life ;  others  are  merely  continuing  the  work  begun  in  former  years.  It  may  be  a 
sad  fact  to  realize,  but  it  is  nevertheless  true,  that  you  have  left  the  parental 
home,  never  again  to  dwell  for  any  great  length  of  time  under  its  sheltering  roof. 
You  enter  college  to  prepare  yourselves  for  life,  and  you  expect  to  enter  upon  its 
duties  as  soon  as  this  work  of  preparation  is  completed.  Be  this  as  it  may,  all 
of  you  are  beginning  a  new  year  of  mental  activity.  A  college  is  a  small  world 
in  itself ;  within  its  limits  you  have  every  opportunity  to  exercise  your  faculties, 
to  develop  your  minds  and  to  cultivate  your  hearts ;  here  you  have  all  necessary 
means  at  your  command  to  fit  yourselves  for  your  future  duties.  One  part  of 
your  life  is  closed  and  lies  behind  you,  and  you  enter  college  to  prepare  yourselves 
for  that  portion  of  it  which  lies  before  you.  Your  state  here  is  that  of  prepara- 
tion for  an  unknown  future,  exactly  as  our  existence  here  on  earth  is  a  state  of 
preparation  for  eternity.  Bear  in  mind  that  he  who  loses  the  chances  and  fails 
to  embrace  the  opportunities  offered  here  on  earth,  is,  so  the  Bible  says,  a 
sufferer  throughout  eternity.  So  he  who  fails  to  improve  his  opportunities  in 
college  is  the  sufferer,  at  least  throughout  life.  Mistakes  made  there,  habits 
formed  there,  avenge  themselves  throughout  life.  Allow  me  then  to  say  a  few 
words  as  to  your  life  and  work,  hoping  that  what  I  offer  may  not  be  spoken  in 
vain. 

He  who  wishes  to  live  right  must  strive  to  know  this  world  of  ours,  with 
all  its  hardships  and  joys,  with  all  its  certainties  and  uncertainties.  ReaUze,  then, 
this  fact,  that  we  are  not  all  made  alike,  neither  in  size,  looks,  gifts  nor  characters. 
We  differ  widely,  and  this  difference  among  creatures  of  the  same  species  is 
noticeable  everywhere  in  the  world  ;  it  is  God's  intention  that  so  it  should  be.  If 
we  differ  widely,  it  becomes  our  second  duty  to  study  others  as  well  as  ourselves. 


134  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

In  a  word,  our  success  in  life  depends  largely  upon  a  correct  knowledge  of  the 
world  in  which  we  act,  a  knowledge  of  the  men  with  whom  and  for  whom  we  act, 
and  especially  does  it  depend  upon  a  knowledge  of  ourselves,  who  must  forever 
act,  and  who  are  destined  to  rise  and  fall  by  our  own  actions. 

This  created  world  is  the  same  everywhere  ;  it  is  fashioned  after  God's  plan, 
and  he  pronounced  it  good.  Although  it  is  the  same  in  goodness,  it  makes  many 
kinds  of  impressions,  it  is  viewed  in  many  ways,  and  all  this  for  the  simple  reason 
that  we  are  differently  constituted.  Most  people  see  the  world  as  through  colored 
glass,  only  few  learn  to  see  it  with  the  naked  eye,  and  as  water  often  partakes  of 
the  taste  of  the  soil  through  which  it  runs,  so  the  world  in  its  appearance  partakes 
of  our  own  natures. 

You  think  you  deal  with  the  world,  and  'so  you  do,  but  you  deal  every  time 
first  with  yourselves.  You  cannot  get  out  of,  nor  can  you  get  away  from,  your- 
selves— it  is  you  that  is  living  your  own  life,  it  is  you  that  is  writing  your  own 
life's  history  every  day.  You  cannot  escape  from  this  world  and  its  respon- 
sibilities, do  what  you  will,  least  of  all  can  you  escape  from  yourselves ;  you  must 
forever  live  and  act,  and  while  here  on  earth,  you  must  once  in  every  twenty-four 
hours  fill  a  page  of  your  life's  history.  Every  human  being  has  his  or  her  own 
peculiar  experience,  hence,  a  peculiar  :'history  of  his  own,  different  from  that  of 
others,  and  that  is  owing  to  the  fact  already  stated,  that  every  individual  differs 
from  all  others.  From  the  foregoing  statement,  it  follows  that  the  appearance  of 
this  world,  our  views  of  life,  its  duties,  its  pleasures  and  cares,  depend  not  upon 
our  surroundings,  but  altogether  upon  our  own  conception  of  them.  As  the  man 
sees  the  world,  says  a  philosopher,  so  it  appears  to  him.  If  he  is  stupid  or  vulgar, 
the  world  likewise  appears  stupid  and  vulgar,  and  naturally  he  delights  in  the 
company  of  the  stupid  and  the  vulgar.  If  he  is  bright,  happy  and  contented,  if 
he  is  cultured  and  refined,  this  world  will  be  the  same  to  him.  Start  out  then 
with  this  idea,  that  Grod  made  a  good  world,  and  that,  if  all  men  were  alike  gifted 
and  alike  good,  all  would  see  this  world  in  the  same  light  of  beauty  and  good- 
ness. Man,  however,  fell ;  man  is  imperfect,  he  has  necessarily  an  imperfect  view 
of  self  and  the  world,  and  as  men  are  differently  constituted,  they  must  differ 
even  in  their  imperfect  views.  The  higher  we  rise  in  culture,  in  refinement,  the 
more  this  life  and  world  must  become  to  us.  The  lower  we  sink  in  degradation, 
the  lower  must  also  be  our  views  of  this  world,  of  man,  and  of  life  itself.  Having 
thus  thrown  some  light  on  your  relations  to  life  and  to  the  world,  let  me  draw 
from  it  this  lesson,  which  I  beg  of  you  never  to  forget,  that,  inasmuch  as  our 
views  of  life  and  men  depend  upon  our  own  inward  condition,  our  happiness  lies 
not  without,  but  within ;  that  we  are  made  happy,  not  by  what  we  have,  but 
only  by  what  we  are.  A  great  mind  sees  great  things  in  this  world  and  life,  a 
petty  thinker,  a  small-minded  man,  finds  fault  and  quarrels  with  everything. 
To  him,  men  and  things  appear  small  and  defective.  A  bright-thinking  and 
quick-observing  mind  sees  a  thousand  things  which  afford  it  pleasure  and  also 
pain,  all  of  which  escape  the  notice  of  the  dull  and  unobserving.  The  intellectual 
and  charitable  man  has  a  high  and  noble  purpose  in  life,  the  selfish  and  sensual 
man  always  lives  for  low  purposes,  yet  both  live  and  exist  in  the  same  world,  all 
chances  and  opportunities  for  good  are  alike  open  to  both.  From  this  it  follows 
that  the  world  is  not  to  blame,  but  man  is.  It  follows,  also,  that  no  matter  how 


THE  VALUE  OP  A  MUSICAL  EDUCATION.  135 

our  condition  may  be  changed,  no  matter  how  rich  we  may  be  made,  even  if  we 
were  to  live  in  luxury,  or  to  enjoy  all  the  honors  this  earth  can  bestow,  we 
ourselves  would  still  be  the  same,  hence,  we  would  in  reality  not  be  happier  than 
we  were  before.  In  order,  then,  to  improve  ourselves  and  others,  we  must  lay 
hold  of  the  inner  man ;  we  must  educate  both  the  head  and  the  heart,  for  the 
mere  bestowal  of  riches  and  honors  would  not  be  bestowing  real  happiness.  If 
we  were  to  give  men  all  the  honors,  all  the  wealth  they  desired,  it  would  be 
found  true  that  the  drunkard  would  still  drink,  the  blasphemer  would  still 
blaspheme ;  nay,  their  conditions  might  possibly  be  worse,  for  great  material 
prosperity  without  correct  mental  and  moral  training  often  fosters  all  the 
greater  evils. 

As  this  world  appears  to  us  either  good  or  bad,  according  to  our  own  good- 
ness or  badness,  according  to  our  own  understanding,  it  must  be  plain  that  the 
highest  gift  a  man  can  attain  is  understanding,  or  in  other  words  the  one  thing 
most  needed  is  education,  which,  in  the  full  meaning  of  the  word,  includes  relig- 
ious and  moral  training.  Education,  therefore,  is  of  more  value  than  money  and 
precious  stones.  An  ignorant  millionaire  cannot  be  as  happy  as  a  poorly  paid  but 
well  educated  preacher  or  college  professor.  An  ignorant  lord  or  king  is  far 
more  miserable  than  is  the  poorest  paid  and  least  recognized  country  school 
teacher.  Many  a  rich  land  owner  sees  less  pleasures  in  life  than  does  his  hard- 
working tenant. 

Life  is  like  a  kaleidoscope ;  it  changes  with  every  rising  and  setting  sun ;  but 
while  life  constantly  changes  in  its  situations  and  scenes,  man  changes  but 
slowly.  It  has  been  said  that  the  man  of  a  clear  brain  and  a  good  heart  sees  the 
world  as  it  is ;  the  man  of  mediocre  mind  sees  it  through  the  lens  of  his  own 
desires  and  passions.  The  man  of  clear  mind  and  good  education  understands 
events ;  he  sees  their  efiects ;  he  seizes  upon  them  and  uses  them,  and  thus  he 
advances  his  own  interests.  The  ignoramus,  the  uneducated,  is  not  qualified  to  do 
this.  The  ability  to  seize  circumstances  and  to  use  them  for  one's  own  good,  or 
the  inability  to  do  so  is  by  many  called  good  and  bad  luck.  In  reality  it  is  good 
and  bad  training,  good  and  bad  education  ;  it  is  ignorance  versus  wisdom,  quickness 
of  mind  versus  dulness  of  mind.  Men  embrace  their  chances  because  they  have 
education  sufficient  to  see  them,  and  they  fail  to  see  them  because  they  lack 
education.  Shun  the  idea  of  fatalism,  it  is  hurtful.  Dismiss  the  foolish  notion 
that  some  are  born  to  succeed,  while  others  are  doomed  to  failure.  Every  man 
is,  in  a  sense,  the  maker  of  his  own  destiny  ;  if  it  were  otherwise,  we  would  be 
mere  puppets  on  the  stage  of  life,  pulled  here  and  there  by  that  invisible  force 
called  Fate.  This  idea  is  repugnant,  yet  many  clutch  and  cling  to  it,  probably  as 
an  excuse  for  their  own  stupidity  or  laziness.  Some  people  act  in  life  as  if  they 
were  hoodwinked — whatever  they  obtain  is  caught  by  chance  ;  whatever  they  do 
seems  to  be  done  by  chance.  While  this  is  a  fact  much  to  be  deplored,  it  must 
be  acknowledged  that  the  fault  is  not  with  the  world,  it  lies  with  men.  The 
good  things  lie  about  them  all  the  same,  but  they  cannot  see  them,  and  that 
because  of  a  lack  of  education.  He,  however,  who  is  educated,  has  the  scale  of 
ignorance  cut  from  his  eyes  ;  he  sees  things  and  situations  in  their  true  light,  and 
he  therefore  acts  wisely,  using  this  world  without  abusing  it.  To  obtain  an  edu- 
cation is  a  great  privilege,  for  the  proper  use  of  which  you  will  be  held  responsible. 


136  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

Therefore  use  your  opportunities,  for  you  will  need,  in  active  life,  all  the  informa- 
tion you  can  possibly  obtain. 

Impress  upon  your  minds  this  lesson,  that  religion,  character  and  learning  are 
three  precious  gifts  worth  striving  for ;  they  are  permanent  gifts ;  they  do  us 
good  ;  they  lift  us  up,  while  money  and  honors  fail  to  do  so.  Through  education 
you  are  enabled  to  draw  pleasures  from  this  world  which  are  denied  to  the  rich 
ignoramus,  for  the  only  true  and  lasting  pleasures  come  from  within  ;  all  outward 
pleasures  are  necessarily  followed  by  renewed  wants  and  often,  also,  by  bitter 
results. 

Some  young  students  seem  to  think  that  college  life  is  or  ought  to  be,  in  part  at 
least,  a  period  of  pleasure-seeking.  There  are  peculiar  pleasures  connected  with 
student-life,  and  every  rational  person  loves  to  see  students  meny  and  lively,  but 
remember  it  is  a  sad  mistake  in  students  as  well  as  others  to  seek  pleasure 
first  and  all  the  time,  for  to  him  who  does  so,  amusements  will  be  as  the  Loreley 
rock.  They  will  surely  wreck  his  life's  barge.  It  has  been  said  that  our  lives 
unravel  themselves  like  balls  of  twine.  When  watching  students  in  schools,  it  will 
be  noticed  that  many  sincerely  endeavor  to  weave  this  twine  into  some  design, 
into  some  useful  articles ;  there  are,  however,  others  who  simply  drop  it  as  it 
unravels  itself,  thus  wasting  their  days  and  opportunities.  Many  students  are 
unmindful  of  the  fact  that,  as  has  been  stated,  they  must  fill  every  day  a  new  page 
of  life's  volume.  Alas,  how  much  foolishness  is  noted  down  day  after  day,  how 
many  bad  deeds  and  idle  words  are  recorded  which  can  never  be  blotted  out.  No 
matter  how  successful  you  may  be  in  after  life,  no  matter  how  useful  you  may 
become  in  after  years  as  men  and  women,  you  will  find  that  in  your  quiet 
moments  of  reflection,  this  book  of  your  life's  history  will  be^thrust  before  your 
eyes,  and  whether  you  will  or  not,  you  must  read.  Memory  and  conscience  are 
two  great  accusers ;  they  will  bring  back  foolish  actions  and  idle  words,  and  this 
will  necessarily  give  you  much  pain.  It  is  wicked  to  palliate  young  people's 
indiscretions  by  saying  that  they  must  sow  their  wild  oats.  No  one  has  a  right  to 
sow  wild  oats ;  no  one  has  a  right  to  claim  that  young  people  must  do  so.  Sow 
good  seeds  ;  sow  them  now,  that  in  after  years  you  may  enjoy  fragrant  flowers 
and  luscious  fruits.  Sow  seeds  of  morality,  for  they  spring  up  to  be  heavenly 
plants  in  the  life  to  come.  Sow  seeds  of  pure  thought,  for  they  lead  to  pure 
action.  Sow  the  seeds  of  pure  action,  so  that  you  may  form  good  habits,  and 
thus  you  will  establish  character.  Look  not  too  much  to  the  future,  for  it  often 
deceives ;  look  more  to  the  present ;  look  to  every  day,  for  every  day  unravels 
your  life's  twine,  everyday  a  new  page  is  turned  over  for  you  to  write  upon. 

Many  young  people  start  out  in  life  with  the  idea  that  happiness  consists  more 
in  having  than  in  being.  Of  course  they  aim  first  at  riches,  for  they  care  more 
for  what  they  have  than  for  what  they  are  ;  true  happiness,  however,  is  found 
only  in  moral  and  mental  progress.  A  good  conscience,  a  clear  head,  and  good 
health,  are  the  true  sources  of  happiness,  for  the  loss  of  which  neither  money 
nor  honors  can  compensate  you.  You  may  be  poor,  and  no  doubt  many  of 
you  have  to  struggle  for  your  education  ;  you  may  have  to  stint  and  deny  your- 
selves in  many  ways,  but  from  this  it  does  not  follow  that  you  must  be  unhappy  or 
humiliated  ;  it  does  not  follow  that  he  who  has  all  the  good  things  imaginable 
is  necessarily  happy.  We  look  too  much  to  what  we  lack,  and  not  enough  to 


THE  VALUE  OF  A  MUSICAL  EDUCATION.  137 

what  we  have.     Having  nine  things  and  lacking  one,  many  foolish  people  fret 

over  the  one  and  forget  to  enjoy  the  nine.    Remember  to  look  first  to  what 

you  are,  and  aim  at  that  alone  which  is  truly  worth  having,  namely,  character 

and  learning.     Money  may  be  taken  from  you  ;  at  best  it  entails  many  cares  and 

is  apt  to  prove  a  chain  that  ties  men  to  the  things  below,  but  character  and 

learning  remain  forever  with  you ;  they  are  cords  that  draw  you  to  the  world 

above.    It  has  been  said  that  we  cannot  get  away  from  ourselves ;  we  are  forever 

with  ourselves,  we  remain  ourselves  throughout  eternity — we  are,  therefore, 

"  forever  our  own  company,"  and  is  it  not  sensible  to  improve  this  company,  so 

that  it  may  be  worth  enjoying  ?    The  bad  man  has  always  bad  company,  the 

ignorant  man  is  always  in  company  with  an  ignorant  man,  and  that,  too,  every  day 

of  his  life.     What  lives  such  people  must  lead  1    Happiness  produces  outward 

cheerfulness,  and  never  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  cheerfulness  is  always  welcomed. 

It  makes  you  strong  and  gives  you  influence  among  pupils,  both  old  and 

young  ;  it  is  welcomed  in  the  sick-room,  in  the  store,  in  church,  on  the  street,  in 

fact,  everywhere.     Cheerfulness  is  always  useful,  no  matter  what  sphere  of  life 

you  may  enter.    Young  students  sometimes  allow  moroseness,  jealousy,  envy 

and  other  unwelcome  guests  to  enter  their  hearts.     At  first  they  come  as  brief 

callers,  as  momentary  guests,  but  there  comes  a  time  when  these  guests  will  stay, 

and  so  there  comes  a  time  when  they  will  rule  you  in  your  own  household, 

driving  out  every  good  caller.    These  guests  will  prove  to  be  cruel  landlords, 

hard  taskmasters  and  tyrannical,  and  they  will  become  more  and  more  so  until 

your  dying  day.     Would  you  be  your  own  masters,  your  own  landlords  and 

kings,  watch  your  hearts  and  minds  now;  see  to  it  that  you  allow  no  bad 

roomers  to  come  in.     Says  a  writer,  "Bad  habits  are  masters  ;  the  slave  has  only 

one,  but  how  many  have  we  ?  "    And  so  it  might  be  added  that  the  turnkey 

puts  the  law  breaker  behind  only  one  or  two  locks,  but  your  habits  are  as  a 

thousand  locks,  almost  closing  every  avenue  of  escape.    Let  me  beg  of  you,  to 

remain  free,  to  keep  bad  company  out  of  the  heart,  to  avoid  forming  bad  habits. 

As  students,  be  social  with  each  other,  seek  all  proper  sources  of  enjoyment, 

but,  bear  in  mind  that  while  the  pleasures  of  society  are  often  agreeable,  they 

also  consume  much  time,  they  lead  often  to  temptations  and  entail  many 

burdens.     Therefore  be  sparing  with  them.     When  you  are  alone,  you  are 

yourself;  in  society,  said  a  philosopher,  you  sometimes  must  be  somebody  else, 

at 'least  you  are  tempted  or  even  forced  to  be  somebody  else.    Fashionable 

society  does  not  often  recognize  real  worth,  for  wealth  and  beauty  generally  take 

its  place.     Social  conversation  often  leads  to  trouble,  and  these  troubles  you  may 

safely  avoid  by  staying  at  home,  where  your  tongue  keeps  quiet.     Never  indulge 

much  in  talking,  for  often  will  you  be  sorry  for  words  spoken  thoughtlessly.    We 

are  often  innocently  led  into  making  statements  which,  when  once  made,  are 

like  stones  that  have  left  the  hand,  they  belong  no  more  to  us,  neither  can  we 

stop  them  in  their  course.     Said  a  great  man,  when  speaking  of  having  attended 

social  parties,  "  I  often  came  home  less  of  a  man  than  I  was  when  I  went."     We 

are  constantly  tempted  to  talk  freely ;  most  people  love  to  hear  themselves  talk  ; 

but  free  talkers  often  destroy  their  own  peace  and  that  of  others.     Select  not 

your  friends  among  such,  for  you  are  apt  to  regret  it.     Young  students  are  often 

dazzled  by  those  who  have  glib  tongues,  and  thus  they  form  friendships  hastily 


138  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

and  inconsiderately ;  friendships  which  lead  to  no  good.  Grow  slowly  into 
your  friendships ;  see  who  it  is  upon  whom  you  bestow  this  boon,  and  if  you 
find  you  were  mistaken  in  selecting  a  companion,  cut  him  off!  Be  sparing  in 
your  friendships,  be  friendly  to  all,  but  let  your  bosom  friends  be  few.  Friends 
sometimes  turn  out  to  be  "robbers  of  our  time  and  invaders  of  our  privacy. " 
Make  it  a  rule  not  to  make  too  much  of  any  fellow  student,  lest  you  might  be 
compelled  to  make  too  little  of  him.  He  who  goes  with  persons  afflicted  with 
contagious  diseases,  is  apt  to  catch  the  ailment;  he  who  goes  with  students 
addicted  to  immoral  or  ungentlemanly  habits,  can  scarcely  escape  catching  im- 
morality and  rudeness.  Lively  fellows,  men  given  to  the  same  evil  habits  and 
inclinations,  like  sparrows  and  blackbirds,  always  go  in  flocks,  for  birds  of  a 
feather  flock  together,  but,  says  a  thinker,  eagles  fly  alone. 

There  are  many  young  people,  and  older  ones  too,  who  cannot  bear  to  be  alone, 
for  they  are  poor,  miserable  company  for  themselves.  Hence  they  seek  society ; 
they  visit  every  theatre  and  opera  house  where  anything  can  be  seen  or  heard ; 
they  indulge  in  all  manner  of  games ;  they  love  to  gossip,  and  all  this  because 
they  are  but  poor,  miserable  company  for  themselves,  because  tune  hangs  heavy 
on  their  hands.  Time  is  one  of  the  most  precious  gifts,  yet  how  wasteful  we  are 
with  it.  When  Queen  Elizabeth  was  about  to  die,  she  offered  all  her  possessions 
for  a  little  time,  an  article  which  you  have  now  in  abundance.  Oh,  use  it  care- 
fully and  wisely ;  for  though  your  ball  of  twine  seems  to  be  large,  though  it  seems 
to  unravel  slowly,  believe  it,  there  is  an  end  to  this  string,  and  there  is  a  day 
known  to  God  now  which  must  be  your  last.  Ministers  who  have  visited  death-beds 
testify  to  the  fact,  that  selfishness,  wordliness  and  waste  of  time  are  among  the 
chief  causes  of  unhappy  death-beds.  Oh,  that  I  might  cause  you  to  realize  now 
what  you  are  sure  to  realize  in  later  years,  namely,  the  preciousness  and  the  short- 
ness of  time.  Oh,  that  you  might  do  every  day  your  duty  toward  yourselves 
and  others,  for  this  is  the  only  ladder  that  leads  to  fame  and  distinction. 
Said  a  young  musician  to  me,  "How  can  I  best  secure  fame?  What  must 
I  do  to  have  reputation?"  My  answer  was,  "Do  every  day's  duty  as  well 
as  you  can.  No  other  road  leads  that  way."  It  is  sad  to  think  that 
there  are  so  many  who  leave  this  world  pretty  much  as  they  found  it,  having 
done  nothing  toward  the  progress  of  self  or  others.  Employ  your  time 
well,  for  sometimes  the  busiest  people  waste  most  of  this  precious  article.  Learn 
to  find  contentment  within  yourselves,  and  thus  time  will  never  hang  heavy  upon 
your  hands.  By  improving  yourselves,  you  will  be  able  to  dispense  with  the 
amusement  world,  which  robs  you  of  much  valuable  time,  and  which  is  apt  to 
lead  you  into  trouble.  You  deprive  yourself  thereby  of  certain  pleasures,  it  is 
true,  but  you  avoid  also  much  pain,  and,  as  an  old  philosopher  says,  "  There  is 
more  true  happiness  found  in  avoiding  trouble  than  there  is  in  actual  indulgence." 
Says  another  philosopher :  "  The  man  who  feels  constantly  the  need  of  company 
and  pleasures,  is  like  a  State  which  imports  everything,  but  produces  nothing. ' ' 
He  is  sure  to  remain  poor  hi  the  end.  Amusement  seekers  have  no  peace  ;  they 
are  forever  on  the  alert  for  new  pleasures ;  they  are  apt  to  get  into  bad  company ; 
they  are  somewhat  like  the  giddy  fly,  which  gayly  and  thoughtlessly  roams 
around  until  suddenly  it  is  caught  in  the  spider's  web.  Amusement  seekers 
always  are  poor  students ;  they  are  nearly  always  poor  thinkers.  Do  some  think- 


THE  VALUE  OF  A  MUSICAL  EDUCATION.  139 

ing  for  yourself;  do  not  import  exclusively  ;  raise  a  crop  of  home  pleasures,  for 
these  you  may  have  at  any  time. 

Take  the  best  care  of  your  health.  Health  depends  upon  steady  and  judicious 
employment,  and  upon  a  rational,  regular,  moderate  style  of  living.  Be  systematic 
and  moderate  in  your  work,  in  your  rest,  in  your  social  intercourse,  and  also  in 
your  eating  and  drinking.  I  attribute  my  good  health  to  the  systematic  living 
and  working  which  I  have  followed  for  twenty-five  years.  You  may  feel  the 
power  within  you  to  do  great  labors,  but  be  sure  that  you  do  not  overtax  the 
body,  for  thus  you  live  no  longer  on  the  interest  of  your  money,  but  you  are  act- 
ually using  up  the  capital.  Reduce  your  needs  and  wants  to  the  minimum,  for 
thus  will  you  stand  the  least  chance  of  disappointment  and  privation  in  life.  He 
who  needs  a  big  house  for  his  happiness,  has  much  expense  in  furnishing  it  and 
much  labor  in  keeping  it  in  order.  But  do  not  go  to  the  other  extreme  of  deny- 
ing yourself  the  necessities  of  life.  Students  who  endeavor  to  deprive  themselves 
of  necessities,  will  find  to  their  sorrow,  that  when  they  have  nearly  accomplished 
their  task,  they  have  also  ruined  their  health. 

Healthy  students  are  usually  happy  students,  for  happiness,  says  a  writer, ds 
necessary  to  health  ;  but  health  does  not  always  produce  happiness.  In  the  end, 
happiness,  like  many  other  states  and  conditions,  is  in  part,  at  least,  a  matter  of 
habit.  Happiness  is  not  apt  to  allow  those  other  roomers,  already  mentioned,  to 
take  possession  of  your  own  house  and  home.  Happiness,  in  a  sense,  means  free- 
dom and  enjoyment  of  labor  and  of  one's  own  existence.  Cultivate  it  now,  and 
believe  it,  that  in  later  years,  it  will  prove  to  be  a  big  shade  tree  under  which  you 
may  rest  securely.  Happiness  desires  to  see  others  happy,  and,  says  Sydney 
Smith,  "If  you  send  one  person,  only  one,  happily  through  each  day,  that 
makes  365  in  the  course  of  a  year.  And  suppose  you  live  only  forty  years  after 
you  commence  that  course  of  medicine,  you  have  made  14,600  beings  happy, 
at  all  events,  for  a  time.  "  Be  happy  and  diligent  students  and  you  are  pretty 
sure  to  meet  happy  teachers.  What  a  trial  it  is  to  instruct  soured,  ill-natured, 
fault-finding  pupils,  and  what  a  delight  it  is  to  see  sunny  faces  about  you.  Verily 
the  latter  always  have  my  best  efforts.  He  who  does  no  good,  rarely  ever  gets 
much  good  ;  he  who  cares  not  for  others,  soon  finds  that  others  care  not  for  him. 
Be  mindful  of  the  wants  of  others,  for  thereby  others  will  also  be  mindful  of  your 
needs.  The  student  who  shirks  duty  is  not  happy.  Never  shirk  duty,  never 
put  off  till  to-morrow  what  ought  to  be  done  to-day.  Every  day  has  its  own  duty ; 
do  it  with  all  your  energy,  for  to-morrow  brings  new  responsibilities,  and,  if  you 
would  make  good  the  neglect  of  to-day,  you  must,  on  to-morrow,  overtax,  or  at 
least  double,  your  energies.  If  your  life  is  a  journey,  remember  you  never  go 
twice  over  the  same  portion  of  it.  If  your  life  is  as  a  book,  with  as  many  leaves  as 
you  may  h've  days,  you  never  write  twice  on  the  same  page.  You  never  live  a 
single  day  twice  over.  A  day  seems  but  a  little  span  of  time,  it  is  only  morn,  noon 
and  night,  yet  poets  like  Pope,  Young  and  others  have  deemed  it  one  of  the 
greatest  sayings  of  the  Emperor  Titus,  that  he  bemoaned  the  loss  of  a  day. 
Every  day  brings  you  nearer  to  that  line  which  divides  the  known  from  the 
unknown,  and  the  devout  Lawrence  Scutari  correctly  said,  "Spend  it  always  as 
if  it  were  your  last.  " 
Many  music  pupils  err  in  constantly  looking  toward  the  end  of  the  year  or 


140  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

the  term.  They  wish  to  know  positively  what  they  shall  have  accomplished  by 
that  time,  and  when  telling  them  what  others  have  accomplished,  they  are  con- 
tinually on  a  strain  trying  to  do  as  much  as  others  did.  Avoid  this,  for  it  is 
hurtful.  Do  every  day's  duty,  and  let  to-morrow  take  care  of  itself.  Whatever 
you  may  have  accomplished  at  the  end  of  the  term,  if  you  were  faithful,  that  is 
all  you  can  do,  and  with  a  good  conscience  you  may  rest,  feeling  assured  that  you 
have  gone  as  far  on  the  road  of  improvement  as  lay  in  your  power. 

Avoid  all  half-way  work.  It  is  one  of  our  national  failings  to  be  sometimes 
contented  with  outward  appearances,  but  be  assured,  this  sin  is  fast  vanishing 
from  our  national  character,  and  with  every  succeeding  generation,  Americans 
look  more  and  more  to  real  merit  in  learning  as  well  as  in  character.  Many  young 
music  pupils  measure  their  progress  by  the  number  of  pieces  they  have  in  their 
portfolios.  This  also  is  a  great  error,  for  only  what  you  know  is  your  own, 
not  what  you  have.  I  have  had  pupils  who  in  their  great  eagerness  for  progress 
practiced  too  much.  Bear  this  in  jnind,  that  your  work  will  benefit  you  only  as  long 
as  the  MIND  is  fresh  and  active.  Whenever  you  work  beyond  this  limit,  you  begin 
to  consume  your  capital,  you  shorten  your  days.  Aside  from  this,  such  work 
avails  but  little.  Set  aside  regular  hours  for  practice  and  also  for  rest  and  for  the 
reading  of  good  books.  I  am  a  friend  of  newspapers,  but  remember  that  mere 
newspaper  reading  is  sure  to  lead  to  shallowness  of  mind.  Strive  to  cultivate 
your  minds  ;  store  them  with  good  knowledge,  for  the  mere  singer  and  player  is 
in  these  days  regarded  as  a  machine  that  simply  grinds  out  music.  There  is 
more  demanded  of  you  than  the  mere  ability  to  sing  or  play,  for  a  musical  educa- 
tion consists  of  more  than  a  high  degree  of  execution. 

Take  daily  exercise.  Your  body  is  a  piece  of  machinery,  says  a  doctor,  the 
interior  of  which  is  constantly  in  motion  ;  give  the  frame  also  a  chance  to  move 
and  to  exercise.  Breathe  plenty  of  fresh  air,  for  this  is  the  food  for  your  blood. 
Open  windows  and  doors  and  let  in  fresh  air  and  sunlight,  for  both  are  needful 
for  the  student.  That  our  health  is  of  the  utmost  importance  is  plain  from  the 
fact,  that  when  we  meet  friends  we  first  ask,  "How  do  you  do ? "  When  answer- 
ing this  question,  stop  a  moment  and  think  whether  you  do  well  with  yourself. 
Many  young  people  fail  to  appreciate  the  value  of  health,  and  never  realize  the 
greatness  of  this  blessing  until  it  is  lost.  Value  your  health,  for  it  is  a  bank 
account,  which  you  draw  upon  every  day,  and  which  may  at  any  time  run  out. 
Do  not  overdraw  it,  for  there  is  no  borrowing  of  health,  no  matter  what  interest 
you  offer. 

The  healthy  and  clear-headed  man  usually  sees  the  world  as  it  is  ;  he  sees  it  as 
if  it  were  reflected  in  a  clear  mirror ;  the  sick  man  sees  it  through  a  glass  that  is 
blurred  and  untrue.  How  can  he  act  prudently  and  wisely  ?  It  is  worse  than 
foolishness  to  trifle  with  one's  health ;  it  is  wicked ;  for  its  loss  robs  you  of  your 
usefulness  and  happiness.  In  your  intercourse  with  students,  and,  indeed,  under 
all  circumstances,  guard  your  honor.  Seek  not  your  honor  merely  in  the  opinions 
of  others,  but  be  the  honor  itself,  clear  to  the  core  of  the  heart.  You  may  be 
regarded  as  a  good  student,  and  at  the  same  time  be  a  consummate  scamp.  You 
may  be  looked  upon  with  suspicion,  and  yet  have  honor.  This  inward  knowledge 
of  being  on  the  side  of  right  is  honor.  Honor  is  of  more  worth  than  gold.  It 
may  be  quickly  lost,  but  it  requires  years  to  restore  it,  if  indeed  it  can  ever  be 


THE  VALUE  OF  A  MUSICAL  EDUCATION.  141 

fully  restored.  To  have  one's  honor  questioned,  wounds  our  feelings  ;  be  there- 
fore slow  to  doubt  that  of  others.  It  is  better  that  you  were  deceived  twenty 
times,  than  that  you  should  suspect  or  accuse  one  person  unjustly.  While  public 
opinion  is  unable  to  create  or  to  destroy  your  honor,  it  is  nevertheless  of  importance 
to  you  that  you  should  be  well  spoken  of.  Never  be  indifferent  toward  public 
opinion,  but  never  seek  to  turn  it  into  your  favor  by  sacrificing  principles.  Always 
see  to  it  that  you  are  right,  and  then  fear  no  one.  Have  some  positive  influence. 
Act  so  that  when  in  after  years  your  name  is  mentioned  and  your  influence  is 
measured,  it  shall  not  merely  be  said  of  you  that  you  were  good  pupils,  that  you 
never  failed,  that  you  never  were  known  to  do  a  wrong  thing,  but  rather  strive  to 
have  it  said  that  you  exerted  a  decided  influence  for  good. 

Be  assured  your  true  standard  will  be  ascertained,  your  mental  and  moral  cali- 
bre will  be  tested  and  measured  by  teachers  and  fellow  students.  He  who  thinks 
that  among  students  he  can  appear  as  something  else  than  what  he  is,  is  much  mis- 
taken. Your  and  my  character  will  be  read  without  fail,  and  is  it  not  the  wisest 
plan  to  be  open,  frank  and  candid  ;  is  it  not  the  wisest  to  appear  exactly  as  we  are  ? 

While  I  would  not  have  you  be  over-sensitive,  for  this  fault  brings  much  trouble 
to  our  hearts,  yet  would  I  urge  you  to  look  well  to  your  right  and  left.  I  would 
have  you  open  your  ears  for  criticism,  for,  from  those  who  uncover  our  faults,  we 
learn  more  than  from  those  who  bestow  fulsome  flattery.  It  is  customary  to  com- 
pliment those  who  sing  or  play  well,  and  flattery  is  an  exceedingly  pleasant  dish 
for  the  average  musician.  You  may  do  well  and  be  deserving  of  praise,  yet 
you  should  not  forget  that  perfect  performances  are  as  rare  as  perfect  bodies  and 
souls.  Remember  also,  that  while  you  have  done  well,  others  have  done  better, 
and  there  is  room  for  improvement  clear  around  the  circle  of  your  art  attain- 
ments. Of  all  faults  that  make  young  people  most  frequently  disagreeable  and 
unhappy,  jealousy  and  conceit  are  two  of  the  commonest. 

Jealousy  is  one  of  the  meanest  of  human  faults,  for  it  envies  others  their  own 
possessions.  The  jealous  person  attempts  to  obtain  for  himself  the  praise  and 
honors  due  others ;  at  least,  he  would  withhold  that  which  is  due.  Often  he 
speaks  in  an  unfriendly  tone  of  others,  and  secretly  he  wishes  evil  and  ill  success 
to  the  one  envied,  and  thus  becomes  malicious.  What  if  a  fellow  student  has 
attained  higher  perfection  than  you ;  would  you  have  this  perfection,  attained 
through  much  labor,  destroyed  or  belittled,  simply  because  you  are  a  lesser 
light?  Ought  you  not  rather  rejoice,  that  so  high  a  degree  of  perfection  has 
been  attained  by  human  effort,  and  ought  we  not  to  esteem  those  who  through 
diligence  have  attained  it?  How  mean,  then,  to  be  jealous,  how  mean  to  belittle 
the  efforts  of  others.  Would  you  not  feel  grieved  to  hear  others  belittle  your 
own  efforts?  Endeavor  to  establish  an  atmosphere  of  generosity;  listen  not 
to  those  who  try  to  destroy  the  reputation  of  others ;  give  credit  honestly 
for  what  is  due  others,  remembering  what  Carlyle  said :  "  It  is  one  of  the 
noblest  traits  of  human  character  to  recognize  the  worth  of  others. "  Not  to  do 
so  is  a  mean  trait,  which  I  hope  never  to  encounter  here. 

It  is  claimed  that  we  musicians  are  especially  afflicted  with  jealousy  and  con- 
ceit, but  this  is  a  false  charge,  for  both  faults  blossom  and  often  come  to  ripe 
fruit  in  other  professions.  Conceit,  like  the  measles,  is  a  disease  which  breaks 
out  more  or  less  among  all  young  people.  All  that  is  needful  is  to  watch  that  the 


142  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

disease  does  not  strike  in,  for  if  it  does,  there  is  scarcely  any  hope  for  recovery. 
There  is  a  period  in  every  one's  life,  when,  in  order  to  see  either  the  smartest  or 
the  handsomest  young  person,  the  young  man  steps  before  his  own  mirror. 
There  are  people  so  conceited  that  they  imagine  the  west  end  of  the  town 
is  sure  to  tip  up  whenever  they  step  toward  the  east.  Conceit  is  always 
a  way-bill  of  an  empty  head.  The  cranium  must  be  filled  with  something,  and 
the  room  which  is  not  occupied  by  solid  learning,  is  usually  given  over  to 
conceit.  He  who  knows  much,  realizes  the  vastness  of  the  fields  of  learning, 
and  comparing  with  it,  his  own  limited  stock  of  knowledge,  is  apt  to  proclaim : 
How  little  we  know,  after  all  Conceited  people  are  an  innocent  sort  of  beings. 
Conceit,  therefore,  is  a  harmless  sort  of  a  malady,  harmless  in  its  effects  upon 
others,  when  compared  with  jealousy.  How  silly  to  think  too  much  of  oneself, 
for  it  is  the  sheerest  self-deception.  What  if  you  think  yourself  twelve  feet 
tall,  there  is  sure  to  be  some  one  who  considers  himself  still  taller  than  you. 
Conceit,  however,  often  provokes  us,  for  the  conceited  man  not  only  overestimates 
himself,  but  also  undervalues  us.  Be  assured,  young  friends,  that  the  conceited 
student  is  cordially  disliked  among  his  classmates.  Often  this  ailing  disease  is 
brought  in  from  other  places,  for  it  does  not  easily  take  root  in  a  large  school. 
Generally  the  conceited  one  conies  from  some  small  academy,  where  he  stood  at 
the  head  of  his  class,  on  account  of  which  he  has  become  an  object  of  praise  and 
admiration.  Of  course,  he  becomes  inflated,  like  a  football,  and  when  at  last  he 
enters  the  university,  he  is  apt  to  be  treated  like  one.  'Tis  hard  that  it  should  be  so, 
but  then  young  people  often  are  inconsiderate ;  they  have  their  strong  likes  and 
dislikes,  and  they  especially  dislike  a  conceited  fellow  student.  There  is  always  a 
disposition  to  let  the  wind  out  of  the  innocent  little  balloon,  and  this  operation 
often  is  apt  to  be  painful  and  vexatious.  Usually  the  knife  of  ridicule  is  used, 
for  this  seems  to  be  the  only  instrument  sharp  enough  to  penetrate  the  rhinoceros 
hide  of  the  conceited  one.  There  is  danger,  however,  that  the  operation  of 
letting  the  wind  out  of  the  balloon  may  be  too  sudden,  for  in  that  case  there  is 
apt  to  be  a  great  fall,  from  which  there  may  be  no  rising.  Look  about  you,  and 
you  will  find  everywhere  young  men  who,  in  their  own  estimation,  are  Adon- 
ises, Ciceroes,  Napoleons  or  Shakespeares,  and  so  we  find  some  who  imagine  them- 
selves to  be  Liszts,  Beethovens,  Pattis  and  Nillsons. 

When  the  Scotch  pray  that  they  might  be  blessed  with  a  canty  conceit  o' 
themselves,  they  mean  not  to  pray  for  the  power  of  over-estimation,  but  rather 
that  they  might  have  a  proper  appreciation  of  themselves,  that  they  might  "see 
themselves  as  others  see  them."  Self-knowledge  is  apt  to  produce  self-confidence, 
and  self-confidence  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  conceit.  The  conceited  man 
overrates  his  powers  and  has  nothing  wherewith  to  sustain  his  high  opinions  of 
self;  the  self-confident  man  knows  his  powers ;  he  trusts  in  them,  uses  them 
judiciously  and  effectively,  and  for  this  reason  generally  succeeds.  The  self-confi- 
dent man  dares  to  aim  at  the  prize  and  often  he  gains  it,  while  he  who  hesitates, 
seldom  wins  anything.  Self-confidence  is  needful  in  all  stations  of  life  ;  he  who 
lacks  it,  is  an  humble  sort  of  a  fellow,  better  designed  to  follow  and  to  serve, 
than  to  lead.  He  needs  constant  advice  and  encouragement,  and  people  usually 
weary  in  bestowing  it. 

Keep  your  imagination  in  check.     'Tis  a  useful  article  to  the  artist,  but  it  is 


THE  VALUE  OF  A  MUSICAL  EDUCATION.  143 

often  a  very  untrustworthy  mirror  of  life.  Do  not  waste  time  and  strength  in 
building  castles  in  the  air,  for  you  can't  live  in  them ;  they  won't  keep  you 
warm,  and  in  the  end  they  will  be  pulled  down  either  by  yourself  or  others. 
Build  on  solid  facts ;  build  solid  houses,  resting  on  genuine  attainments.  Vision- 
ary people  are  driven  to  and  fro  ;  they  are  unstable.  They  are  apt  to  be  optim- 
ists or  gloomy  pessimists. 

Be  prudent  about  the  display  of  your  knowledge  and  wisdom.  Do  not  press 
your  ideas  too  much  forward.  Talk  only  about  those  subjects  with  which  you  are 
familiar,  for  knowledge,  like  timber,  says  a  writer,  should  be  well  seasoned  before 
it  is  used.  Be  a  ready  listener,  and  a  reluctant  talker.  Never  be  ashamed  to 
confess  your  ignorance  of  a  subject ;  hesitate  not  to  ask  questions.  Most  people 
will  be  generous  toward  you  when  confessing  a  lack  of  information,  but  they  can 
hardly  be  expected  to  be  generous  toward  the  pretender. 

Be  polite  to  all.  Cultivate  politeness  as  a  habit,  for  it  cannot  be  put  on  and 
off  at  pleasure.  Politeness  endears  you  to  everybody ;  as  future  teachers, 
preachers,  physicians  and  lawyers  you  need  it  every  hour  in  the  day.  Cultivate 
it  now,  so  that  it  may  become  a  part  of  yourselves. 

Cultivate  patience.  Be  patient  under  reproof,  patient  in  the  discharge  of 
duty,  patient  in  waiting  for  results.  'Tis  foolish  for  pupils  to  be  impatient  under 
reproof,  if  kindly  administered.  You  come  here  for  the  purpose  of  being 
reproved  ;  you  need  your  teachers'  corrections ;  how  foolish,  then,  to  feel  unduly 
sensitive  and  restless,  or  even  offended,  when  corrected.  Impatience  makes  your 
work  all  the  harder,  while  your  restlessness  eventually  becomes  a  serious  impedi- 
ment to  happiness  in  life.  Write  these  lines  as  a  golden  lesson  in  your  mind ; 
wait  patiently  on  the  world  and  its  opportunities,  but  never  keep  the  world  wait- 
ing on  you.  "Wait  patiently  until  the  world  shall  recognize  your  merits.  Be 
patient  in  ^bearing  with  the  peculiarities  of  others ;  do  not  hastily  and  rashly 
attempt  to  correct  or  reprove  what  you  see  amiss  in  others.  Do  not  press  your 
own  individuality  too  forcibly  upon  others,  but  miss  no  chance  to  place  yourselves 
under  the  influence  of  great  and  good  men.  He  who  builds  a  house  by  the 
wayside  must  be  satisfied  to  let  people  passing  by  criticise  his  plan  ;  so  if  you 
play  and  sing  in  public  you  must  expect  people  to  criticise  your  efforts.  Be  patient 
under  criticism. 

Compare  yourself  with  others,  but  look  not  exclusively  up  or  down — measure 
yourself  with  those  above  as  well  as  with  those  beneath  you.  Be  severe  in 
your  judgment  of  yourself,  but  be  lenient  toward  others  ;  be  not  easily  satis- 
fied with  your  own  attainments  ;  seek  to  see  the  faults  of  your  own  work ;  but 
when  criticising  the  work  of  others,  seek  first  to  see  that  which  is  good.  Seek  not 
after  distinction,  but  do  everything  well,  because  this  is  the  right  way  to  act, 
feeling  contented  with  having  done  your  full  duty.  It  was  Riickert,  the  poet, 
who  said,  that  the  rose  which  ornaments  the  bush  also  ornaments  the  garden. 
What  if  your  merits  are  not  recognized  by  others,  you  are  surely  not  the  sufferer, 
for  you  are  still  what  you  are,  and  more  than  that  you  cannot  be.  I  love  the 
spirit  of  emulation  and  competition  ;  I  like  to  see  men  strive  for  front  places  and 
honors,  but  those  who  recite  best,  those  who  obtain  first  honors,  are  not  always 
the  greatest  men.  Who  then  is  the  greatest  ?  Not  he  or  she  who  recites,  or 
plays,  or  sings  best,  but,  says  a  good  man,  he  who  chooses  right  with  invincible 


144  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

resolution,  he  who  resists  the  sorest  temptations  from  without  and  within,  he 
who  bears  the  heaviest  burdens  cheerfully,  he  who  is  the  calmest  in  storms  and 
whose  reliance  on  truth  and  virtue,  on  God,  is  the  mos^  unfaltering. 

It  only  remains  for  me  to  speak  on  the  subject  of  your  musical  studies.  There 
is  a  truth  in  music  as  there  is  a  truth  in  religion,  in  the  sciences,  and  in  politics. 
The  question  which  I  wish  to  put  to  you  now  is  this.  Is  it  wise  to  spend  one's 
time  in  following  error  when  the  truth  lies  right  at  our  feet  ?  Surely  not.  Is  it 
right  to  read  dime  novels  when  there  are  so  many  good  books  to  be  had,  and  that 
almost  for  the  mere  asking  for  them  ?  Is  it  right  to  live  on  the  husks  when  there 
is  so  much  good  corn  growing  ?  Surely  not.  Is  it  right  for  you  to  use  the  divine 
art  as  a  thing  of  fashion  or  selfish  gratification  when  it  may  do  your  souls  good  ? 
Surely  not.  We  use  only  the  purest  gold  of  music  in  this  workshop.  But  say 
some,  there  are  many  people  who  pass  brass  for  gold,  or  who  even  prefer  it  to 
gold.  Let  me  say  that  if  the  people,  the  world  over,  were  to  take  brass  for  gold, 
it  is  your  duty  to  expose  the  fraud.  If  all  people  were  to  run  after  Baal,  would  you 
join  the  crowd  and  deny  your  God  ?  No,  you  would  stand  by  the  truth ;  and  the 
same  you  should  do  in  your  musical  studies.  The  truth  comes  from  God  ;  to  stand 
by  the  truth  means  to  stand  on  God' s  side,  and  this  makes  you  strong.  But  say  some, 
my  friends  do  not  like  such  music.  In  reply,  let  me  say  that  you  do  not  study 
music  to  please  your  friends,  but  to  elevate  yourself  and  others.  Every  lover  of 
truth  can  afford  to  wait  until  those  for  whom  he  labors  see  the  truth  also.  That 
good  music  must  win  the  victory,  is  as  sure  as  the  fact  that  the  Gospel  must  win 
the  victory.  Let  us  help,  then,  to  hasten  the  good  time  coming,  by  doing  our 
share  toward  the  spread  of  good  music. 

And  now  in  closing,  only  a  few  words  in  behalf  of  those  good  parents  you  leave 
when  you  go  to  college.  There  are,  to-day,  many  anxious  fathers  and  mothers 
whose  children  are  before  me.  There  may  be  those  among  them  who  do  not  pray, 
but  there  are  none  among  them  who  do  not  wish  their  children  to  do  well,  none 
who  wish  you  to  forget  their  parental  ^instructions.  Never,  therefore,  undertake 
anything  of  importance  without  asking  yourself  in  your  heart,  whether  your  parents 
would  sanction  your  action.  You  may,  and  you  may  not,  be  children  of  the 
church  ;  but  even  if  you  are  not,  remember  the  old  Sabbath-school  lessons  which 
you  received.  Do  not  cut  loose  from  the  old  moorings  of  home  instruction.  And 
now  success  to  you  and  to  your  endeavors.  May  our  efforts  be  crowned,  and  may 
we  all  feel  that  it  was  good  for  us  to  have  met ;  may  we  realize  our  expectations, 
and  may  you  accomplish  that  which  you  seek. 


MEMORY. 


The  ability  to  play  music  from  memory  is  justly  regarded  as  an  accomplish- 
ment. Of  late,  however,  an  undue  importance  has  been  attached  to  it,  for 
pianists  seem  to  vie  with  each  other  in  the  exhibition  of  the  power  of  memory, 
even  more  so  than  in  the  art  of  playing  itself.  That  the  power  of  playing  from 
memory  is  of  great  value,  both  to  teacher  and  pupil,  cannot  be  denied,  and  it  is 
therefore  a  proper,  yes,  even  a  very  profitable  subject  for  consideration. 

Memory  is  that  power  which  enables  us  to  store  away  in  that  great,  unseen  safe 
of  ours — the  mind — the  many  ideas  that  have  presented  themselves  to  it.  Mem- 
ory retains  all  past  ideas  and  perceptions  of  the  mind ;  recollection,  however,  as 
the  word  indicates — meaning  to  recollect — is  the  faculty  which  enables  us  to  recall 
them.  Recollection  is  usually  spontaneous ;  it  is  not  as  much  subject  to  the  will 
as  appears  to  the  general  observer.  Yet  it  must  be  said,  that  the  will  often  is  of 
great  assistance  to  us  in  the  exercise  of  this  faculty.  Memory  is  the  safe,  it  is  the 
storehouse  for  thought ;  without  it,  we  would  gain  no  knowledge.  But,  says  a 
writer,  memory  is  not  like  a  post-office  box,  or  like  a  pigeon  hole,  in  which  all 
information  may  be  stored  like  so  many  letters  or  memoranda ;  to  the  contrary,  it. 
ought  to  be  like  a  well  edited  periodical,  which  prints  nothing  that  does  not  har- 
monize with  its  intellectual  life.  This  implies  that  the  mind  should  not  be  mind- 
ful of  anything  that  does  not  benefit  it,  or  that  does  not  come  up  to  our  moral  and 
intellectual  standard.  Memory  is  absolutely  necessary  for  our  existence;  for 
without  it,  there  could  be  no  personal  identity.  Haven  says  :  "  Memory  is  our 
only  voucher  for  the  fact  that  we  existed  at  all  at  any  previous  moment. " 

Nature  never  bestows  her  gifts  equally.  To  some  she  gives  great  power,  while 
others  are  left  almost  empty  handed.  The  power  of  memory  also  is  unequally  dis- 
tributed. It  must,  however,  be  borne  in  mind,  that  the  power  of  memory  is  to  a 
great  degree  the  result  of  cultivation.  Some  persons,  as  we  shall  presently  see, 
have  attained  an  unusual  degree  of  perfection  of  memory  ;  their  mental  safes 
seem  to  be  both  larger  and  more  secure  than  those  of  others.  It  must  be  acknowl- 
edged that  the  power  of  retaining  and  recalling  facts,  dates,  incidents,  faces,  ideas, 
locations  and  so  forth,  is  certainly  a  most  remarkable  gift ;  for  all,  it  is  true,  that 
this  power  is  not  by  any  means  the  highest  faculty  of  the  human  mind.  The 
mere  memorizer  Is,  at  best,  but  a  mechanical  being,  his  mind  is  simply  stuffed 
with  other  people's  ideas.  Or,  if  we  would  make  another  comparison,  the 
mind  that  thrives  only  by  memorizing,  is  but  as  a  cistern.  It  must  be  filled 
from  the  roofs,  while  the  mind  of  the  original  thinker  is  as  the  well,  that  supplies 
itself.  Pump  out  the  facts  of  a  "memorizing  man,"  and  like  a  cistern  he  event- 
ually becomes  empty ;  but  try  to  pump  the  ideas  out  of  a  thinking  mind,  and  you 
will  never  strike  bottom,  for,  like  a  well,  it  supplies  itself.  One  idea  leads  to  another, 
one  thought  produces  another.  The  memorizer' s  mind  is  as  a  storehouse  in 
10  145 


146  MUSIC  AND   CULTURE. 

which  so  much  merchandise  is  put  away  ;  the  thinking  man's  mind  is  as  a  factory 
that  produces  this  merchandise.  As  the  merchant  must  go  to  the  manufacturer 
to  replenish  his  stock,  so  the  rnemorizer  must  go  to  the  thinker  for  his  ideas. 

The  power  of  memory  has  been  the  subject  of  much  investigation  and  many 
curious  theories  have  been  advanced  with  regard  to  it.  Thus  it  is  said,  that  the 
memory  of  the  lower  classes  of  human  beings  is  superior  to  that  of  the  more  civilized 
races,  because  the  primitive  people  must  rely  more  upon  their  memories  for  the 
preservation  of  facts,  while  educated  people  may  refresh  their  memories  at  any 
time  by  referring  to  books  and  manuscripts.  It  has  also  been  observed,  that 
idiots  and  otherwise  weak-minded  people  had  remarkable  memories.  This  is  a 
flat  contradiction  of  the  idea  entertained  by  many,  that  those  who  are  possessed  of 
good  memories,  are  also  great  people.  In  the  "Memoirs"  of  Mrs.  Summer- 
ville,  we  read  of  an  idiot,  who  lived  in  Edinburgh,  Scotland.  He  could  repeat  the 
entire  sermon  he  heard  on  a  Sabbath  ;  yes,  more  than  that,  he  could  tell  where 
the  preacher  coughed  and  where  he  wiped  his  nose.  The  same  writer  epeaks  of 
another  idiot,  who  knew  the  Bible  so  well,  that  he  could,  without  hesitation,  tell 
where  any  verse  was  to  be  found.  Archdeacon  Fearon  speaks  of  a  man  who, 
though  a  complete  fool,  could  remember  the  day  when  every  person  had  been 
buried  in  the  parish  for  thirty-five  years,  and  that  he  could  recall  the  name  and 
age  of  the  deceased,  as  well  as  the  names  of  the  mourners  that  attended  the 
funeral.  Aside  from  these  facts,  he  could  not  give  an  intelligent  reply  to  a  single 
question. 

It  has  been  said  that  memory,  as  a  rule,  is  stronger  among  the  uneducated. 
Let  me  give  a  few  illustrations.  Hone,  in  his  "  Table  Book,"  speaks  of  a  Sussex 
farm  laborer  named  George  Watson.  Upon  being  asked  what  day  of  the  week  a 
given  day  of  the  month  occurred,  he  immediately  named  it,  and  also  mentioned 
where  he  had  been  and  what  the  state  of  the  weather  was.  A  gentleman  who 
had  kept  a  record  put  many  questions  to  him,  and  his  answers  were  invariably 
correct.  Daniel  McCarthney,  a  native  of  this  country,  who  had  no  higher  employ- 
ment than  turning  the  wheels  of  a  printing  press,  had  a  prodigious  memory. 
He  declared,  says  Mr.  Henkle,  in  the  Journal  of  Speculative  Philosophy,  that  he 
could  remember  all  the  dates  and  the  days  of  the  week,  from  1827  to  1869  ;  that 
is,  from  the  time  he  was  nine  years  old  up  to  his  forty-second  year.  He  also  could 
tell  where  he  had  spent  each  of  these  15,000  days  and  what  he  did.  He  was 
employed  in  the  ofiice  of  the  Salem  Republican,  and,  says  the  Hon.  T.  K. 
Ruckenbrod,  upon  turning  to  the  files  of  the  Journal,  the  man  was  always  found 
to  be  correct.  This  man's  memory,  however,  was  not  confined  to  dates  alone. 
He  could  give  the  cube-root  of  such  figures  as  59,319  or  571,787.  He  could 
also  repeat  250  hymns  and  sing  200  tunes.  "With  all  this  singular  power  of 
memory,  however,  he  was  not  a  man  whose  general  grasp  of  mind  was  in  any 
way  noteworthy. 

Reid,  in  his  "Intellectual  Powers,"  gives  an  instance  of  an  ignorant  woman, 
who  in  a  fever  recited  page  after  page  of  good  Greek,  Latin  and  Hebrew,  which 
were  identified  as  passages  she  had  heard  by  chance  many  years  ago.  This,  says 
the  writer,  is  an  instance  showing  the  permanence  of  simple  impressions.  It  is 
no  doubt  a  fact,  that  the  mind  keeps  all  impressions  it  receives.  This,  however, 
by  no  means  implies  the  power  of  recollecting  or  recalling  them  at  any  time. 


MEMORY.  147 

Sometimes  when  sitting  quietly  at  rest,  memory  seems  to  delight  in  opening  its 
safe,  and  the  power  of  recollection,  as  if  it  were  playing  with  me,  repeats  names 
of  persons  of  whom  I  had  not  thought  for  twenty-five  years.  Incidents,  which 
I  am  sure  have  never  been  recalled  by  my  memory  since  I  came  to  this  country, 
suddenly  recur  and  dance  before  me,  as  if  to  tantalize  me.  It  is  said,  Our  power 
of  recollection  is  not  our  power  of  memory.  We  remember  what  we  cannot 
recall,  but  the  time  will  come  when  we  can  recall  all  that  the  mind  has  remem- 
bered ;  in  other  words,  all  that  the  mind  has  been  mindful  of.  The  idea  that 
what  has  once  been  put  into  the  mind  will  remain  there  forever,  is  one  that 
ought  to  make  us  cautious  as  teachers  and  parents.  It  is  a  most  serious  idea,  and 
should  make  us  careful  in  our  intercourse  with  others.  A  trifling  remark  upon  a 
serious  topic  may  escape  the  mind  of  him  who  uttered  it,  but  it  often  makes  an 
indelible  impression  upon  the  mind  of  him  who  hears  it. 

Observation  goes  to  show  that  the  memory  is  most  tenacious ;  that  under  certain 
circumstances,  it  suddenly  and  infallibly  recalls  impressions  made  years  ago. 
Doubtless  through  some  imperfections  of  the  mind,  we  are  prevented  from 
recalling  all  we  saw  and  heard.  Insignificant  incidents  are  often  hidden  away 
in  the  mind,  as  little  slips  of  paper  are  hidden  among  an  immense  mass  of  manu- 
scripts which  fill  an  author's  drawer.  Let  a  favorable  opportunity  arise  and 
these  insignificant  ideas  and  almost  forgotten  facts  turn  up,  as  do  the  little  slips 
of  paper  just  alluded  to. 

An  educational  journal  speaks  of  a  lady  in  the  last  stages  of  a  chronic  disease, 
who  was  carried  from  her  London  home  to  a  friend's  country  residence.  While 
there,  her  infant  daughter  was  brought  to  visit  her,  and  after  a  short  interview 
was  carried  back  to  town.  The  lady  died  a  few  days  later,  and  the  daughter 
grew  up  without  any  recollection  of  her  mother.  When  she  had  reached  a  mature 
age,  she  happened  to  be  taken  to  the  room  in  which  her  mother  died,  without 
knowing  of  the  occurrence.  Upon  entering  she  became  agitated,  and  when  asked 
for  the  cause,  she  replied  :  "I  have  a  distinct  impresssion  of  having  been  in  this 
room  before,  and  that  a  lady,  who  seemed  very  ill,  lay  in  this  corner,  bending 
over  me  in  tears. ' '  Other  and  equally  remarkable  instances  showing  the  tenacity 
of  memory  might  be  given,  but  it  is,  perhaps,  unnecessary. 

It  is  claimed  by  prompters  on  the  stage,  and  also  by  professors  of  elocution,  that 
the  memory  of  women,  as  a  rule,  is  superior  to  that  of  men.  This  accords  with 
my  own  observation.  It  is  a  fact  generally  acknowledged,  that  the  memory  of 
youth  is  more  vigorous  than  that  of  more  advanced  years.  It  is  most  vigorous  in 
childhood,  and  seems  to  be  strongest  about  the  age  of  fifteen,  from  which  period 
it  generally  begins  to  decline.  It  must,  however,  not  be  inferred  from  this  state- 
ment that  the  decline  of  memory  implies  also  a  decline  of  mental  activity.  Mem- 
ory, as  has  been  stated,  is  to  a  great  degree  the  result  of  training.  During  the 
years  when  the  boy  or  girl  is  at  school,  memory  is  constantly  exercised  and  thereby 
strengthened,  while  in  later  years  this  practice  is  somewhat  neglected  ;  at  least, 
memory  is  not  trusted  to  a  very  great  extent.  While  professional  men  must  rely 
upon  memory,  while  merchants  and  mechanics  will  never  forget  certain  facts,  it 
will  be  generally  found  true  that  in  later  years  men  tmst  more  to  pen  and  pencil 
than  to  memory.  As  the  mind  grows  older,  it  necessarily  gathers  more  learning  ; 
at  the  same  time  it  is  also  burdened  with  greater  cares,  and  is  distracted  by  the 


148  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

more  serious  affairs  of  life.  Hence  men  in  advanced  years  are  not  very  apt  to 
repeat  pretty  poetry  or  interesting  quotations.  This  perhaps  explains  why  men 
are  sometimes  forgetful  of  love's  vows,  and  the  many  tender  promises  they  made 
when  engaged  in  that  interesting  and  delightful  occupation  of  making  love. 
Ladies,  as  has  been  stated,  have  better  memories,  especially  in  this  particular 
direction.  Great  tact  and  wisdom  is  required  in  recalling  these  facts  to  men's 
minds,  and  right  here  let  me  say  that  many  ladies  err  and  cause  themselves  much 
unnecessary  trouble.  A  physician  of  prominence  claims  that  the  memory  of 
feeble-bodied  people,  as  a  rule,  is  superior  to  that  of  robust  persons  ;  and,  as  a 
proof,  he  adds  that  by  examining  the  condition  of  students  in  colleges,  it  will  be 
found  true  that  those  who  are  the  greatest  memorizers,  are  generally  those  that 
are  lightly  built.  It  is  also  claimed  that  the  memory  of  farmers  and  of  country 
people  is,  as  a  rule,  better  than  that  of  townspeople.  We  all  know  that  memory 
is  freshest  and  easiest  impressed  in  the  morning,  hence  Germans  say : — 

' '  Die  Morgenstunde 
Hat  Gold  imMunde." 

It  has  also  been  asserted  that  people  living  in  warm  climates  have  superior 
powers  of  memory,  as  compared  with  those  living  in  northern  countries. 
Memories  excel  in  different  directions.  Some  easily  remember  faces,  others 
remember  names,  while  still  others  never  forget  dates.  Some  are  easily 
lost  in  the  woods,  or  in  the  streets  of  a  city,  while  others  quickly  find 
the  right  road.  Some  children  easily  remember  poems,  others  can  readily 
commit  whole  chapters  of  the  Bible,  a  gift  entitling  them  to  the  appellation 
of  good  children  and  enabling  them  to  carry  off  prizes,  while  those  who  lack 
this  gift  are  often — and  that  very  unjustly — called  lazy,  or  even  bad.  Because 
they  lack  strong  memories,  it  is  charged  that  their  minds  run  away  from  good 
things.  I  do  most  heartily  sympathize  with  such  children,  for  I,  too,  belonged 
to  that  unfortunate  class  who  found  it  difficult  to  commit  the  catechism. 

The  illustrations  thus  far  given  referred  to  the  idiotic  and  to  children.  Allow 
me  now  to  give  a  few  instances  calculated  to  show  that  great  and  powerful  minds 
may  also  display  unusually  strong  memories.  Before  doing  so,  however,  let  me 
briefly  allude  to  the  statement  made  by  Sir  Arthur  Help,  who  claims  that 
the  memory  in  past  centuries,  but  especially  among  the  ancients,  was  more 
powerful  than  is  the  exhibition  of  this  faculty  among  students  of  to-day.  This 
is  equivalent  to  saying  that  the  power  of  memory  has  universally  declined, 
especially  since  the  art  of  writing  and  printing  has  become  so  widespread. 
This  is  not  accepted  as  a  fact  by  physicians.  While  in  these  days  of  scientific 
investigations  and  discoveries  we  cannot  exclusively  rely  upon  the  memory, 
we  nevertheless  use  this  faculty  very  extensively — more  so  than  did  our  fore- 
fathers. We  necessarily  use  the  memory  more,  because  the  lines  of  our  horizon 
of  knowledge  have  been  removed  far  beyond  that  of  our  ancestors. 

A  good,  active  memory  is  in  these  days  absolutely  necessary  for  success.  We 
need  memory  to  retain  facts  of  science  and  mechanical  appliances ;  memory  to 
retain  languages ;  memory  to  retain  data  and  facts  in  political  life,  and  a  very 
good  memory  to  grasp  the  lessons  of  life.  Doubtless  the  ancient  Grecian  rhap- 
eodists  had  remarkable  memories,  but  they  are  equaled,  if  not  excelled,  by  the 


MEMORY.  149 

modern  Shanaiiia-Khans  of  Persia,  singers  who  recite  poetry  by  the  hour  from 
memory,  without  even  stammering.  The  bards  of  the  Calmucks  also  repeat 
songs  and  poems  from  memory,  the  recitation  of  which  sometimes  lasts  whole 
days. 

There  were  Grecians  who  knew  their  Homer  by  heart ;  but  then,  what  is  this 
compared  with  Justice  Scaliger's  memory,  who  committed  the  whole  of  Homer 
in  twenty-one  days,  and  all  the  Greek  poets  in  three  months.  There  have  been 
hundreds  that  knew  their  Homer  by  heart.  Isaac  Walton  tells  us  that  Bishop 
Sanderson  could  repeat  all  the  odes  of  Horace,  all  of  Tully's  offices,  and  the 
best  part  of  Juvenal.  We  are  told  of  one  Porson  who  knew  by  heart  the  writ- 
ings of  Horace,  Virgil,  Homer,  Cicero,  and  Livy,  and  all  that,  before  he  went  to 
school  at  Eton,  England.  A  classmate  once  played  a  joke  on  him  by  slipping  a 
wrong  book  into  his  hands  just  as  he  was  about  to  read  and  to  translate.  But 
the  boy  was  not  at  all  disconcerted.  He  simply  recited  the  lesson  from  memory. 
In  later  years  he  could  recite  all  the  Greek  poets  and  prose  writers.  He  could 
give  whole  plays  from  Shakespeare ;  he  could  recite  complete  books  from  "Para- 
dise Lost,"  and  many  other  works. 

Archdeacon  Fearon,  in  a  pamphlet,  tells  us  of  a  boy  fourteen  years  old  who 
repeated  14,000  lines  in  Homer,  Horace  and  Virgil.  But  I  must  not  pass  the 
ancients,  for  among  them  we  also  find  men  endowed  with  remarkable  powers 
of  memory.  We  are  told  that  Cyrus  remembered  the  name  of  every  soldier 
in  his  army.  Lucius  Scipio  is  said  to  have  known  the  name  of  every  citizen 
in  Rome,  when  that  city  could  furnish  200,000  able-bodied  fighting  men. 
Pontius  Latro  could  repeat  verbatim  every  speech  he  ever  had  heard  in  the 
Roman  Senate.  Crassus,  when  he  was  praetor  in  Asia,  was  familiar  with  all  the 
Greek  dialects ;  and  Mithridates,  king  of  twenty-two  nations,  administered  their 
laws  in  as  many  languages.  But  then  we  also  know  that  Sir  William  Jones 
could  speak  thirteen  languages  and  could  read  in  thirty  others. 

A  few  years  ago  England  could  boast  of  two  men,  Borrows  and  Palmer,  who, 
as  a  writer  says,  might  have  traveled  from  the  hills  of  Wales  to  the  Ural  Moun- 
tains, or  from  Lisbon  to  Algiers  and  Delhi,  without  meeting  a  language  in  which 
they  could  not  converse. 

Sir  William  Hamilton  tells  of  a  Corsican  who  had  a  most  remarkable  memory, 
which  he  tried  thoroughly.  Words  were  dictated  to  him  which  were  selected 
from  the  Greek  and  Latin,  and  were  so  arranged  that  they  conveyed  no  idea. 
This  was  continued  until  everybody  was  tired.  The  Corsican  then  repeated  every 
word,  and  having  done  so  he  recited  them  backward  without  missing  one.  Then 
he  named  every  third,  then  every  fourth  word,  etc. ,  without  making  a  mistake. 
But  what  is  more  remarkable,  after  a  year's  time  he  could  still  repeat  the  same 
words. 

An  incident  is  mentioned  of  a  Polish  forester  who  had  been  located  in  Ger- 
many, and  who  had  neither  heard  nor  spoken  his  native  language  for  forty  years. 
While  under  the  influence  of  chloroform,  he  spoke,  prayed  and  scolded  in  Polish. 

Mr.  von  B ,  envoy  to  Petersburg,  was  about  to  make  a  visit,  but  he 

could  not  tell  the  servant  his  own  name.  Turning  to  a  gentleman  that  was  with 
him,  he  said  :  "  Do  tell  me  who  I  am.  "  The  question  excited  laughter,  but 
upon  explanation  he  was  told  who  he  was,  and  he  finished  his  visit. 


150  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

Who  among  my  hearers  has  not  experienced  that  uncertainty  of  memory,  when 
suddenly  we  fail  to  remember  how  a  familiar  word  is  spelled  ?  If  grown  men  are 
so  forgetful,  how  much  more  patient  should  we  be  with  children.  In  hospitals 
one  meets  quite  frequently  with  patients  that  are  deprived  of  the  use  of  certain 
words.  They  cannot,  for  instance,  remember  the  words  knife  or  tumbler,  but 
speak  of  the  thing  that  cuts,  or  the  thing  we  drink  out  of.  Yet  such  persons 
have  been  known  to  play  games  that  require  close  observation  and  much 
calculation. 

Speaking  of  the  loss  of  memory,  I  must  recall  the  case  of  Rev.  Onnond.  He 
met  with  some  financial  reverses,  took  sick,  and  during  that  illness  he  lost  his 
memory.  He  had  forgotten  how  to  read  and  write ;  he  could  not  name  any  one, 
not  even  his  wife  and  children.  I  knew  the  man,  and  testify  to  the  correctness 
of  this  statement.  Strange  to  say,  one  evening  he  engaged  in  prayer,  when  sud- 
denly his  powers  of  memory  returned.  In  his  devotions  he  mentioned  every  one 
of  his  family  by  name,  and  could  even  recall  facts.  That  night  he  died, 

In  some  people  the  memory  is  on  certain  days  a  blank ;  nothing  can  be 
recalled  or  remembered.  Dr.  Azarn  describes  a  woman  who  lived  two  distinct 
lives.  In  one  she  was  serious,  in  the  other  gay  and  coquettish.  She 
had  no  memory  that  extended  to  both  conditions.  When  she  was  gay,  she 
remembered  nothing  about  her  serious  spell,  and  vice  versa.  Indications  of  such 
a  double  life,  one  sometimes  notices  among  children.  Often  teachers  are  forced 
to  ask  themselves  the  question,  how  it  is  possible  that  a  child,  which  a  week  ago 
recited  such  excellent  lessons,  should  to-day  be  so  stupid  and  thoughtless.  Chil- 
dren sometimes  seem  to  be  bereft  of  the  powers  of  memory,  for  when  asking 
them  questions,  which  at  ordinary  times  they  answered  readily,  they  give 
us  simply  a  vacant  stare.  Unless  the  teacher  is  a  student  of  the  human  mind, 
especially  of  the  minds  of  children,  unless  he  observes  the  operations  of  his 
own  mind  in  order  that  he  may  know  something  of  those  minds  he  is  called  upon 
to  instruct,  he  is  doomed  to  meet  with  many  enigmas  in  the  schoolroom,  the 
solution  of  which  will  be  beyond  his  ability. 

Such  irregularities  in  children's  minds  often  lead  to  sickness  and  premature 
decay.  Many  instances  are  on  record  in  medical  works  of  children  who  suddenly 
forgot  all  they  knew.  It  has  been  said  that  impressions  once  made  upon  the 
mind  can  never  be  fully  effaced.  How  then  do  we  explain  the  failing  memory  of 
old  age  ?  It  can  only  be  explained  on  the  ground  that  aged  people  fail  to  exer- 
cise this  faculty,  and  that  therefore  it  fails  to  act  readily. 

Men  who  are  remarkable  for  strong  memories  are  not  necessarily  remarkable 
for  superior  thinking  powers.  Memory  must  be  cultivated  and  should  receive 
proper  attention  in  early  youth.  Yet  we  must  bear  in  mind  this  fact,  that  the  devel- 
opment of  memory  is  entirely  distinct  from  the  development  of  the  thinking  and 
reasoning  faculties.  It  is  a  fact  much  to  be  deplored  that  the  memory  is  allowed 
to  become  too  important  a  factor  in  the  educational  work.  Pupils  are  not  only 
allowed,  but  cften  forced  to  rely  upon  it,  at  the  cost  of  clear  thought  and  sound 
reasoning.  There  are  teachers  who  are  either  unwilling  or  unable  to  see  this.  I 
detest  any  system  of  education  that  relies  chiefly  upon  memory,  for  by  it  the  true 
inwardness  of  the  lesson  is  lost  sight  of.  Such  pupils  must  become  lifeless,  as  no 
doubt  their  teachers  are.  We  have  met  pupils  who  could  repeat  rule  after  rule, 


MEMORY.  151 

but  who  never  learned  how  to  apply  one.  I  have  met  pupils  who  could  recite 
page  after  page  in  Butler's  Analogy  or  in  mental  philosophy,  but  who  under- 
stood but  very  little  of  what  they  said.  And  so  many  young  people  recite  verses 
from  the  Bible,  but  after  all  know  very  little  of  true  religion.  There  are  many 
who  can  recite  poem  after  poem  and  can  spell  a  whole  class  down,  who  are,  after 
all,  utterly  unable  to  express  one  solid  thought.  Many  parents  and  teachers  are 
foolish  enough  to  pride  themselves  upon  the  memories  of  their  children  and 
pupils.  They  cram  facts,  dates,  poems,  mathematical  rules  and  what  not,  into  the 
children's  minds,  overlooking  altogether  the  fact  that  they  are  training  mere 
machines ;  that  by  their  mistaken  course  they  often  undermine  the  children's 
health,  and  perhaps  cripple  them  for  life. 

Aside  from  the  formation  of  character,  the  most  important  part  of  the  educa- 
tional work  is  to  teach  the  pupil  to  think — that  is,  to  set  his  mental  faculties  to 
work  to  enable  him  to  use  that  great  and  powerful  tool,  the  brain.  What  matters 
it  if  we  know  ever  so  many  facts,  but  cannot  use  them  ?  We  are  then,  and 
always  will  remain,  mere  one-story  people.  Great  originality  appears  to  be  in- 
compatible with  dependence  on  memory.  Those  who  repeat  only  what  others 
have  said,  rarely  will  say  anything  worthy  of  themselves.  They  fill  their  minds 
with  other  people's  ideas.  They  soak  in  thoughts,  so  to  speak,  but  never  think. 

Memory,  says  a  writer,  must  be  viewed  somewhat  like  a  stomach.  Only  so 
much  of  the  food  becomes  nourishment  as  is  assimilated  by  the  body,  through 
the  process  of  digestion.  A  stomach  that  fails  to  digest  the  food  it  receives  is  a 
dyspeptic  stomach  ;  so  the  mind  which  fails  to  assimilate  the  lesson  committed 
by  memory,  fails  to  digest  it  and  is  a  dyspeptic  mind.  Only  those  lessons  which 
the  mind  assimilates  will  be  of  service  to  the  future  man  or  woman.  Memorizers 
can  tell  many  things,  but  they  rarely  ever  say  anything  very  original  or  profound. 
Their  minds  are  soaked  in  other  people's  ideas,  and  thereby  they  have  lost  the 
flow  and  flavor  of  their  own  thoughts.  They  put  other  people's  ideas  into  their 
heads,  as  bald  men  put  other  people's  hair  upon  the  top  of  their  heads.  They 
cover  their  baldness,  and  so  far  so  good,  but  usually  they  try  to  make  us  believe 
that  the  luxuriant  crop  of  hair  which  they  cany  about  is  of  their  own  growth. 
When  examining  the  article,  one  readily  sees  that  it  is  false,  and  the  fact  quickly 
becomes  known,  beyond  a  doubt,  that  the  wearer  of  it  is  bald.  In  like  manner  we 
soon  discover,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  the  baldness  of  the  memorizer's  brain. 
He  can  tell  only  what  he  has  read,  and,  like  a  sponge,  as  a  writer  says,  he  is 
never  very  particular  as  to  what  he  draws  in.  Squeeze  it,  says  the  same  writer, 
and  you  will  be  sure  to  see  dirty  water. 

It  is  of  the  utmost  importance  that  pupils  be  early  trained  to  think  and  to  express 
their  own  thoughts  in  words.  One  idea  coming  direct  from  a  pupil's  mind,  is  of 
more  value  to  him  than  the  reading  of  twenty  pages  of  Shakespeare.  The  idea 
may  have  no  value  to  the  world  at  large,  but  to  the  person  that  uttered  the  same 
it  is  of  the  utmost  importance.  Education  consists  not  only  in  putting  things 
into  the  mind,  but  also  in  drawing  them  out,  in  setting  the  mind  to  work  in  order 
that  it  may  reach  conclusions  through  its  own  activity.  I  never  or  very  rarely 
,give  facts  which  can  be  drawn  out  of  the  pupil's  mind  by  judicious  questioning. 
Many  teachers  view  the  child's  mind  as  if  it  were  a  mere  barrel  or  a  cistern  to  be 


152  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

filled,  while  in  reality  the  teacher  ought  to  regard  it  more  in  the  light  of  a  valu. 
able  spring,  which  he  is  called  upon  to  open,  so  that  the  precious  clear  water 
may  have  free  flow. 

Education  does  not  consist  entirely  in  putting  the  seed  into  the  ground,  but 
also  in  preparing  the  soil,  in  caring  for  the  plants  that  have  sprung  up.  Mere 
telling  is  not  teaching,  mere  committing  to  memory  is  not  learning.  He  who 
raises  memorizers  has  nothing  else  to  do  than  to  follow  the  text-book.  He  who 
would  be  called  a  teacher,  must  aim  in  every  conceivable  way  to  set  the  mind  to 
work,  he  must  put  fire  into  the  mental  furnace  that  moves  the  brain,  and  like  a 
good  machinist  he  must  know  the  engine  he  handles,  and  watch  over  it  with  care. 
Some  pupils'  minds  are  like  old  rusty  machines.  They  require  a  great  deal  uf 
heat  and  oil  to  start  them.  This  operation  is  sometimes  painful,  and  the  teacher 
is  in  danger  of  being  suspected  of  severity ;  in  the  end,  however,  he  is  sure  to 
reap  his  reward.  The  mental  engine  must,  as  a  rule,  be  moved  by  electric  and 
magnetic  forces,  and  the  giving  out  of  these  powers  is  what  w  ars  out  the 
teacher's  energies.  It  is  this  that  weakens  him,  yet  this  fact  is  but  very  little 
seen  or  understood  by  the  masses,  nor  by  pupils  themselves. 

Ours  is  a  time  which  demands  thinking  teachers,  thinking  preachers,  thinking 
mechanics  and  scientists,  and  for  this  reason  the  teacher  should  do  all  in  his 
power  to  force  his  pupils  to  think  for  themselves  and  to  express  their  own  thoughts 
in  their  own  language.  Said  a  pupil:  ''  I  know  the  answer  to  your  question,  but 
I  can't  tell  it."  "No,"  said  I,  "you  do  not  know  it,  for  only  that  which  we  can 
tell  or  write  down  in  clear  comprehensive  language,  we  know.  Only  that  and 
nothing  more. ' ' 

Let  us  now  speak  more  particularly  of  the  musical  memory.  When  Hans  von 
Biilow  at  one  time  played  five  of  the  later  sonatas  by  Beethoven  from  memory, 
it  was  regarded  as  an  unheard-of  event,  and  the  fact  was  mentioned  by  musical 
journals  the  country  over.  It  doubtless  required  tremendous  powers  of  memory 
to  do  this.  Since  then  my  friend  Henry  Bonawitz  has  done  the  same  thing, 
while  another  pianist,  whose  name  I  cannot  recall,  played  all  of  Mendelssohn's 
"Songs  without  Words"  from  memory,  and  did  this  remarkable  feat  at  one  sit- 
ting. But  if  the  present  boasts  of  remarkable  memories,  the  past  is  not  in  the 
least  behind.  When  the  blind  Irish  harpist  Carolan  heard  one  of  Viotti's  violin 
concertos,  he  instantly  repeated  it  upon  his  harp,  although  he  had  never  heard  it 
before.  When  Mozart  was  in  Rome  during  the  Easterweek  (1790),  he  heard 
Allegri's  Miserere.  He  begged  the  Pope  for  a  copy  of  this  beautiful  composition, 
but  this  request  was  positively  refused.  While  attending  the  rehearsal,  Mozart 
paid  close  attention,  and  upon  his  return  home  he  wrote  down  the  whole  compo- 
sition from  memory.  To  note  down  from  memory  such  a  complicated  choral 
work  indicates  a  prodigious  power  of  memory.  Another  instance  is  mentioned 
showing  the  power  of  the  same  master's  memory.  He  had  promised  to  write  a 
piano  and  violin  sonata  for  Mad.  Schlick,  the  great  violinist.  Instead  of  attending 
to  his  promise,  he  went  to  work  on  other  things,  and  postponed  the  sonata  until 
a  few  days  before  the  concert,  when  the  new  work  was  to  be  played.  Mozart 
then  composed  the  sonata  in  B  flat  major,  and  had  the  entire  work  ready  in  his 
mind,  but  still  delayed  the  odious  task  of  writing  it  down.  A  day  before  the  concert 
the  lady  was  terrified,  having  not  yet  received  the  manuscript  from  the  composer. 


MEMORY.  153 

She  at  once  sent  a  servant  to  remind  him  of  his  duty,  whereupon  Mozart  hastily 
wrote  out  the  violin  part  and  sent  it  to  the  lady.  In  the  concert,  however,  he 
played  his  own  part  from  memory,  having  never  played  it  before.  Instead  of 
being  proud  of  such  an  achievement,  the  modest  Mozart,  fearing  to  attract  atten- 
tion to  himself  and  his  gifts,  laid  a  sheet  of  music  on  the  instrument.  He  was 
absolutely  afraid  lest  the  Emperor  might  discover  the  fact  that  he  was  playing 
from  memory.  There  are  musicians  who  remember  as  many  as  twenty,  thirty, 
and  even  forty  operas,  each  of  which  would  fill  an  evening.  The  blind  flutist 
Dullon  knew  125  concertos  by  heart,  and  distinguished  each  by  a  certain  number. 
Other  remarkable  facts  might  be  given,  but  I  must  pass  on. 

The  mind  readily  remembers  melodies,  yes,  certain  tunes  have  haunted  us  for 
weeks,  or  have  gone  with  us  through  life.  Tunes  usually  are  connected  with 
incidents,  and  the  one  produces  the  other  on  memory's  page.  Tunes  open  the 
floodgates  of  memory,  and  cause  scenes  of  other  days  to  pass  vividly  before  us. 
Though  the  leaves  of  our  life's  tree  may  have  been  frosted  by  the  approaching 
winter,  we  still  love  to  dwell  upon  the  warm  days  of  our  spring  and  summer. 

' '  When  through  life  unblest  we  rove, 

Losing  all  that  made  life  dear, 
Should  some  notes  we  used  to  love 

In  days  of  boyhood  meet  our  ear, 
Oh  how  welcome  breathes  the  strain, 

Wakening  thoughts  that  long  have  slept, 
Kindling  former  smiles  again 

In  faded  eyes  that  long  have  wept. 

"  Like  the  gale  that  sighs  along 

Beds  of  oriental  flowers, 
Is  the  grateful  breath  of  song, 

That  once  was  heard  in  happier  hours  : 
Filled  with  balm  the  gale  sighs  on, 

Though  the  flowers  have  sunk  in  death  ; 
So,  when  pleasure's  dream  is  gone, 

Its  memory  lives  in  music's  breath." 

Deep,  deep  into  the  heart  goes  the  song  that  takes  us  out  of  our  every  day  life 
and  guides  us,  as  it  were,  up  to  a  mountain,  from  whence  we  behold  the  distant 
landscape  through  which  we  wandered.  Oh  how  strong  is  the  yearning  to  tread 
once  more  those  paths  so  wrought  with  youthful  pleasures,  and  how  stern  the 
irrevocable  command,  to  pass  on  to  the  silent  grave  !  Ah,  the  imagination  may 
take  us  there,  the  gale  sweeping  over  these  pleasure  grounds  may  fan  our  weary 
brow,  but  it  fails  to  bring  us  the  fragrance  it  once  did.  Yet  who  would  not  be  willing 
to  be  led  again  and  again  by  the  gentle  hand  of  song,  to  see  once  more  the  lawns 
where  we  played  as  children,  the  bowers  where  we  whiled  away  our  time  with 
those  we  loved  best?  As  the  sun's  warm  rays  of  the  Indian  summer  plays  in 
vain  around  the  tree,  it  being  unable  to  bring  forth  new  life,  the  sap  having 
waned  at  the  approach  of  winter,  so  does  the  recollection  of  the  past  come  to  us 
through  the  medium  of  song,  sweet  in  itself,  but  unable  to  give  us  the  pleasures 


154  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

belonging  to  it,  or  the  power  of  enjoying  them.  Well  did  a  writer  say,  that 
there  is  no  joy  in  the  true  memory  of  music,  but  a  sadness  made  sweet  and  holy, 
because  it  is  inspired  by  the  purest  spiritual  sympathy,  and  has  its  birth  and 
death  in  melody. 

A  strong  retentive  memory  is  very  useful  to  a  musician.  Not  only  does  it 
enable  him  to  afford  pleasures  to  willing  listeners  at  any  time  or  place,  but  by 
playing  or  singing  without  the  aid  of  notes,  he  is  free,  and  is  thereby  enabled  to 
perform  with  more  liberty  and  sentiment.  The  close  musical  reader  is  fettered, 
a  good  share  of  his  mental  activity  is  expended  upon  reading  the  notes,  upon 
observing  expression  marks,  while,  if  he  were  free  from  this  bondage,  he  could 
throw  his  whole  soul  into  the  performance.  The  musician  who  sings  or  plays 
from  memory  is  a  second-hand  improviser,  he  forgets  self,  he  lives  in  the  music 
and  not  in  the  notes  or  in  his  surroundings.  This  is  the  reason  why  musicians 
prefer  to  play  from  memory,  and  it  is  the  lack  of  this  faculty  that  keeps  so  many 
respectable  players  from  soaring  aloft  on  the  wings  of  their  imaginations.  The 
musician  who  plays  from  memory  is  as  the  bird  that  flies  unfettered ;  the  musician, 
however,  who  is  tied  to  his  notes,  is  as  the  bird  that  is  tied  to  a  string. 

A  good  memory  is  something  to  be  admired  and  to  be  worked  for.  The  masses, 
however,  are  very  apt  to  overrate  it,  hence  Billow's  performance  of  five  of 
Beethoven's  later  sonatas  from  memory  was  by  many  considered  a  greater  feat 
than  the  performance  itself.  Such  people  extol  the  artist  at  the  expense  of  art. 
No  matter  how  we  may  admire  the  memorizer,  let  us  not  be  unmindful  of  the  fact 
that  the  memory  is,  after  all,  as  has  been  said,  but  one  of  the  lower  faculties  of 
the  human  mind. 

While  the  strength  of  the  memory  depends  upon  training,  it  is  a  power 
that  cannot  be  forced.  Not  all  are  gifted  alike.  If  a  powerful  memory  is  to 
the  musician  as  a  portfolio  in  which  he  carries  his  music,  the  portfolios  of 
some  contain  many,  those  of  others  contain  but  few  pieces,  if  any  at  all.  Most 
of  them  might  be  better  filled  than  they  are.  Parents  and  teachers  often  err  in 
discouraging  young  pupils,  when  playing  from  memory.  Rather  encourage  them, 
but  see  to  it  that  what  they  play  from  memory  is  correctly  played.  Slovenly, 
careless  playing  from  memory,  leaving  parts  out  or  changing  others,  ought  to  be 
discouraged,  and  in  this  particular  the  teacher  cannot  be  too  careful  If  a  little 
one  catches  a  tune  and  plays  it  on  the  piano,  the  teacher  should  be  pleased,  but 
he  should  guard  against  this  practice,  whenever  it  absorbs  too  much  time  and 
crowds  the  regular  lesson  into  the  background. 

It  must  be  said  that  he  who  remembers  many  dance  tunes,  has  not  as 
good  a  memory  as  he  who  plays  but  one  sonata  by  Beethoven,  or  a  fugue  by 
Bach.  Some  persons  have  very  incorrect  and  treacherous  memories.  When 
attempting  to  play  without  notes,  they  fare  like  the  Western  legislator  who 
was  ambitious  to  make  a  speech.  Said  he:  "Mr.  Speaker,  when  I  reflect 
upon  the  character  of  George  Washington — ",  and  here  he  stopped.  Beginning 
a  second  time,  he  said  :  "  Mr.  Speaker,  when  I  reflect  on  the  character  of  George 
Washington — ",  and  again  his  memory  failed  him,  and  he  stopped.  He  started 
for  a  third  tune,  but  ended  with  the  same  result.  At  last  a  waggish  member 
rose  and  said  :  "  Mr.  Speaker,  I  rise  to  a  point  of  order  :  it  is  not  proper  for  a 
member  of  this  house  to  cast  reflections  on  the  character  of  George  Washington  :" 


>IEMORY.  155 

and  amidst  shouts  of  laughter,  the  man  whose  memory  betrayed  him  had  to 
subside.  Let  this  be  a  lesson  to  all  of  us. 

If  you  attempt  to  play  from  memory,  in  public,  be  very  sure  that  you  are  the 
master  of  your  faculties.  A  failure  under  such  circumstances  is  sure  to  bring 
ridicule  upon  you,  because  of  your  unsuccessful  pretense. 

Many  players  never  get  a  correct  impression  of  a  piece  upon  the  tablet  of  their 
memory ;  others  succeed  in  this  direction,  but  are  very  easily  disturbed  and  mis- 
led. Some  take  in  a  piece  quickly  and  forget  it  in  a  few  days ;  others  must  hammer 
and  hammer  until  the  notes  remain  fast,  and  these  usually  are  the  persons  who 
retain  an  impression  for  a  long  time. 

As  a  rule  the  blind  have  the  strongest  memories.  It  is  nature's  plan, 
that  when  one  sense  is  denied  us,  other  faculties  are  strengthened  in  order  to  com- 
pensate for  the  loss  sustained.  In  our  asylums,  the  blind  sing  whole  oratorios, 
and  play  complete  symphonies ;  rarely  do  they  ever  forget  what  is  once  com- 
mitted. When  considering  the  difficulties  presented  by  such  works  to  those  gifted 
with  eyesight,  we  may  comprehend  what  it  means  for  the  blind  to  sing  or  play 
them  from  memory.  It  might  be  said,  that  the  memory  easily  grasps  the  melody, 
yet  even  this  is  difficult  in  such  large  compositions,  for  they  modulate  much,  and 
often  change  in  other  respects.  But  what  shall  be  said  of  those  who  remember 
the  altos  and  tenors,  or  the  inner  voices  of  an  orchestral  score  ?  This  requires 
memory  pure  and  simple. 

Having  said  so  much  on  this  subject,  it  will  become  plain  that  the  cultivation 
of  musical  memory  should  receive  a  pupil's  attention.  In  this  work,  as  in  all 
other  educational  processes,  we  should  be  systematic ;  that  is,  our  plan  for  reach- 
ing a  given  end,  should  be  based  on  good  reasoning.  How  then  should  you 
proceed  ?  Before  answering  this  question  let  me  remark,  that  a  lack  of  memory 
does  not  imply  a  lack  of  musical  talent.  Great  musicians  have  been  known  to  be 
poor  memorizers,  while  most  of  them  are  forgetful  in  matters  of  every  day  life. 

He  who  would  use  the  mind,  should  know  the  mind.  He  should  know  its 
operations  as  well  as  its  capacities.  It  would  be  worse  than  cruel  to  require  of  a 
child's  memory  what  it  cannot  perform,  yet  the  experiment  is  daily  made,  simply 
because  teachers  know  but  little  of  the  mind.  Let  teachers  watch  their  own 
memories,  and  ascertain  what  may  be  asked  of  pupils.  Many  musicians  seem 
hardly  conscious  of  the  fact  that  they  have  minds.  Let  music  teachers  study  that 
which  comes  from  within,  the  subjective,  as  well  as  that  which  comes  from  with- 
out, the  objective.  Let  them  strive  to  be  thinking  players  and  singers,  for  think- 
ing leads  to  correct  teaching,  to  good  judgment,  and  to  correct  performances. 

In  training  a  pupil's  memory,  begin  with  phrases,  with  easy  melodies  and  chord 
combinations,  then  proceed  gradually.  First  commit  parts  of  pieces,  then  en- 
deavor to  play  the  whole.  But,  as  has  been  said,  whatever  you  commit  should 
be  a  perfect  performance.  Impress  all  runs,  and  chord  combinations  specially 
upon  your  mind,  in  order  that  you  may  have  a  correct  impression  of  them. 
Once  a  piece  is  incorrectly  learned  and  memorized,  it  is  difficult  ever  to  correct  the 
mistakes.  Some  musicians  when  playing  from  memory,  play  as  if  they  had  the 
notes  before  them,  they  simply  read  the  notes  from  a  copy  which  they  see  before 
them.  Others  play  according  to  phrases,  and  by  rules  of  harmony.  The  latter 
course  is  the  better.  Every  singer  and  player  has  his  own  methods  of  playing  or 


156  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

singing  from  memory.  But  whatever  that  method  may  be,  the  memory  should 
not  be  disturbed  by  trying  to  commit  many  things  at  once ;  in  other  words,  give 
the  ideas  time  to  settle.  He  whose  mind  turns  to  many  things  in  quick  suc- 
cession, he  who  attempts  many  things,  rarely  ever  will  succeed  in  memorizing 
anything  well ;  nay,  he  will  impair  the  powers  of  his  memory.  Concentrate  your 
powers  on  one  piece.  I  have  known  musicians  who,  in  order  to  memorize  a 
composition,  copied  it  repeatedly. 

In  closing,  let  me  warn  you  not  to  bestow  too  much  praise  upon  the  exhibition 
of  musical  memory.  Do  not  be  dazzled  by  it,  but  judge  of  the  performance  in- 
dependently of  the  display  of  memory.  No  musician  of  high-art  ideas  will  en- 
deavor to  astonish  by  a  display  of  his  powers  of  memory.  By  all  means  train  the 
memory,  but  do  not  allow  it  to  become  the  main  attraction  of  your  or  your  pupils' 
performances. 


WOMAN  IN  MUSIC. 


It  may  well  be  said  that  woman  is  the  mainstay  of  the  church  and  the  cause 
of  missions,  without  casting  any  reflection  upon  the  many  excellent  men  who  are 
workers  in  Christ's  vineyard.  Yes,  take  woman  out  of  the  church,  deprive  mis- 
sions of  her  aid,  and  see  what  the  condition  of  these  causes  would  be.  In  a  like 
manner,  woman  in  this  country  has  been  the  supporter  of  music  and  art  in  general, 
and  without  woman's  aid,  music  would  never  have  become  what  it  now  is. 

Man  is  more  a  creature  of  the  head,  woman  of  the  heart.  It  is,  therefore,  but 
natural  that  woman  should  delight  in  music,  the  language  of  the  heart's  emotions. 
Through  her  ministering  spirit  the  art  has  been  domiciled  in  our  homes  ;  she  has 
carried  it  triumphantly  into  our  concert  rooms  and  opera  houses  ;  she  has  kept  it 
fresh  in  the  sanctuary,  and,  what  is  still  more,  she  has  been  a  faithful  and  devoted 
teacher  of  the  art.  Would  that  American  boys  could  be  persuaded  to  practice 
the  divine  art  to  some  degree  at  least,  for  it  would  prove  to  be  a  means  of  culture, 
tending  to  remove  that  self-asserting  spirit  so  prominent  among  our  youths. 
More  than  that,  it  would  be  a  delightful  recreation  and  a  great  source  of  pleasure. 

My  object  is  to  show  woman's  influence  in  the  fields  of  musical  art.  That 
woman  practiced  the  art  in  ancient  times  is  plain,  from  the  fact  that  Miriam  and 
her  maids  sang  and  played  after  the  destruction  of  the  Egyptians  in  the  Red  Sea, 
and  other  instances  might  be  mentioned.  That  the  art  was  also  practiced  by  the 
women  of  other  nations  is  evident  from  the  bas-reliefs  found  in  Egypt,  Assyria 
and  other  countries,  on  which  women  are  seen  playing  instruments.  The 
Grecians  had  their  nine  muses;  they  had  their  sirens  and  other  female  musi- 
cians, priestesses,  and  so  forth. 

But  for  my  purpose  there  is  no  necessity  to  explore  [the  writings  of  the 
ancient  authors,  for  music  is  a  Christian  art.  Both  music  and  woman  existed 
before  Christ,  but  our  Saviour's  birth  was  the  period  from  which  music  really 
began  to  develop,  and  from  which  woman  began  to  be  elevated  in  the  social  scale. 
Thus  we  see  that  both  music  and  woman  have  much  to  be  thankful  for  to  Christi- 
anity, and  it  is  quite  natural  that  woman  should  readily  take  to  it.  There  can  be 
no  doubt  that  woman  sang  in  the  earlier  churches.  She  was  admitted  to  worship, 
and  she  probably  joined  in  singing  the  Psalms  and  hymns.  Strange  that  in  the 
light  of  Christianity,  woman  should  rise  so  slowly,  and  that  it  required  so  many 
years  to  raise  her  from  her  inferior  place  to  the  position  she  occupies  now. 
Behold  the  torture  poor  woman  endured  during  the  dark  ages,  and  even  later, 
under  the  charges  of  witchcraft.  Only  when  the  great  book  is  opened  shall  we 
learn  what  poor  woman  suffered  during  thousands  of  years,  but  especially  during 
the  tyranny  of  the  dark  ages.  She  was  friendless ;  not  even  the  church  defended 
her  or  condemned  the  superstitious  belief  in  witches. 

That  woman  during  such  a  period  should  neither  study  nor  practice  the  art  of 

157 


158  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

music  is  easily  believed.  Yes,  she  was  even  deprived  of  the  privilege  of  singing 
in  the  house  of  God,  for  choirs  in  those  times  were  made  up  of  priests,  friars  and 
monks.  Yet,  no  doubt,  many  a  home  resounded  with  gentle  lullabies,  which 
flowed  from  mothers'  lips  ;  no  doubt  many  a  hymn  was  heard  within  the  narrow 
home,  and  so  also  were  heard  the  old  folk-songs,  those  popular  airs  which  come 
and  go  like  the  summer  birds.  As  they  make  their  nests  under  our  roofs  without 
asking  for  permission,  so  these  songs  irresistibly  take  lodgings  in  our  minds  and 
hearts ;  we  love  them,  but  we  never  ask  whence  they  came  or  who  produced 
them.  These  airs  no  doubt  made  up  what  may  be  called  the  house-music  of  those 
times ;  but  who  can  doubt  that  this  house-music  also  resounded  in  the  fields, 
whenever  and  wherever  woman  had  to  labor  ?  It  is  possible  that  some  of  these 
old  songs  were  produced  by  women  ;  especially  is  this  claim  made  with  regard 
to  lullabies  that  have  come  down  to  us  in  Germany,  France  and  other  countries. 
It  is  far  more  reasonable  to  believe  that  these  little  ditties  came  from  the  heads 
and  hearts  of  mothers  than  from  the  rougher  natures  of  workingmen,  or  from 
warlike  cavaliers  and  barons. 

As  in  olden  times,  when  Christ  dwelt  upon  earth,  and  in  the  middle  ages, 
women  were  often  employed  as  singers  and  mourners  at  funerals.  Mrs.  Hitter 
says  that  many  of  the  folk-songs,  which,  because  of  their  great  love  power,  live 
so  long  and  exert  such  a  strong  influence,  were  composed  by  women.  There  is, 
however,  no  evidence  of  this  statement.  But  if  woman  has  not  composed  them, 
she  no  doubt  was  the  means  of  spreading  them  by  teaching  them  to  her  children. 
Bear  in  mind  that  women  were  uneducated  in  those  times  ;  they  could  neither 
read  nor  write.  The  system  of  writing  music  "was  very  imperfect  and  difficult  to 
learn,  hence  these  songs  had  to  be  perpetuated  by  committing  them  to  memory. 
Ah1  nations  have  such  old  airs,  while  Germany  probably  has  the  largest  number 
stored  away  in  that  grand  old  collection  by  Von  Arnim  and  Brentano,  entitled 
"The  Boys'  Wonderhorn."  Not  only  was  this  style  of  music  cultivated  among 
European  nations,  away  in  Persia,  in  Arabia,  in  Hindoo,  we  find  many  and  most 
beautiful  specimens  of  popular  songs.  May  we  not  also  believe  that  many  nuns, 
leading  secluded  lives  in  their  convents,  having  very  little  communication  with 
the  outer  world,  and  especially  at  a  time  when  the  means  of  communication  were 
very  deficient,  produced  their  own  songs  of  praise  for  their  worship.  It  is  also 
reasonable  to  believe  that  the  ladies  in  castles,  who  waited  fondly  for  the  return 
of  husbands  and  brothers  from  long  and  far-off  wars,  gave  vent  to  their  loneli- 
ness through  the  medium  of  song,  and  when  the  sad  and  ever  startling  news  of 
death  came,  music  must  have  been  to  them  a  solace.  Where  else  could  they  get 
the  songs  through  which  they  poured  out  their  feelings  except  in  their  own  hearts 
and  minds  ? 

During  the  tune  when  the  troubadours  and  the  minnesingers  flourished,  a 
higher  and  a  better  style  of  music  came  into  use.  We  learn  that  these  singers  were 
accompanied  by  female  musicians  known  as  the  trouveresses.  The  names  of  some 
of  these  are  still  known.  It  is  claimed  that  they  produced  many  original  songs, 
but  this  is  denied  by  some  writers.  What  has  been  said  with  regard  to  the  trou- 
badours is  also  true  of  the  minstrels  who  came  later. 

It  is  a  most  remarkable  fact  that  in  the  sixteenth  century,  when  woman  was 
excluded  from  church  choirs,  a  woman,  St.  Cecilia,  was  proclaimed  to  be  the 


WOMAN  IN  MUSIC.  159 

patron  saint  of  our  beloved  art.  We  do  not  know  whether  she  was  a  musician, 
but  so  much  is  sure,  she  was  a  godly  woman  and  died  a  martyr's  death.  There 
are  many  legends  told  concerning  her,  according  to  which,  she  is  said  to  have 
resided  in  Rome,  and  then  again  in  Sicily.  But  be  this  as  it  may,  it  is  a  remark- 
able fact  that  a  woman  was  selected  as  patron  saint  of  the  divine  art. 

The  Reformation  was  a  necessity,  for  the  work  of  civilization  through  the  gospel 
had  been  retarded  in  many  ways,  and  a  new  impulse  was  needed.  With  the 
Reformation  began  the  real  growth  of  our  art,  and  from  that  time  also  dates  the 
onward  movement  of  woman's  elevation.  The  Reformation  at  once  admitted 
woman  into  choirs ;  in  fact,  congregational  singing  is  one  of  the  first  outgrowths  of 
this  movement.  The  church  had  fettered  the  art,  and  as  it  is  a  growing  plant, 
it  sought  a  new  outlet,  and  this  led  to  the  invention  of  the  opera.  On  the  stage, 
woman  quickly  proved  that  she  was  possessed  of  great  capabilities,  and  not  until 
she  had  displayed  her  powers  in  this  new  field  was  she  admitted  to  Catholic 
choirs.  The  invention  of  the  opera  took  place  about  the  year  1600,  and  in  looking 
over  the  history  of  music  since  that  time,  one  must  acknowledge  that  woman  has 
indeed  accomplished  great  things.  Her  musical  progress  and  her  advancement  in 
social  influence  have  always  kept  pace  with  each  other.  What  a  great  number 
of  lady  singers  and  players  grace  musical  history  during  these  300  years !  How 
many  books  have  been  written  about  them  ;  how  many  operas  and  sacred  songs 
have  been  written  for  them  j  what  vast  floral  and  poetic  offerings  have  been  laid 
at  their  feet,  and  how  richly  they  have  been  paid  by  kings  and  princes.  With 
what  ovations  have  they  been  met,  and  how  many  of  them  have  been  decorated 
by  governments  !  You  may  have  heard  of  the  great  Mara,  of  whom  G-oethe 
says  so  much,  of  Gabrieli,  who  moved  the  masses  to  tears  and  frenzy  by  her 
singing. 

Catalani's  name  reaches  into  our  times  ;  she  had  a  most  wonderful  voice.  The 
sum  of  $1200  was  paid  her  in  England  for  singing  "God  Save  the  King,"  and 
$12,000  was  paid  her  for  singing  at  one  festival  Malibran  was  a  most  fascinating 
singer ;  Schroeder  Devrient  was  the  idol  of  all  great  musicians ;  Sontag  was 
beloved  the  world  over,  and  when  she  died  all  lovers  of  art  mourned  over  the  loss. 
Lind,  the  pure  and  intellectual,  the  charitable  Jenny  Lind,  will  never  be  forgot- 
ten. In  New  York,  she  gave  hi  one  week  $50,000  to  the  poor.  Then  there  is 
Nillson,  and,  last,  Patti,  who  received  greater  pay  and  was  longer  on  the  stage  than 
any  other  singer.  She  was  paid  from  $5000  to  $6000  for  one  concert  performance. 
As  to  our  own  country,  we  have  during  the  past  twenty-five  years  produced 
quite  a  number  of  great  singers.  There  are  Kellogg,  Gary,  Albani,  Nikita,  Hauk, 
Thursby,  and  many  others  who  are  known  the  world  over. 

The  work  these  women  had  to  do,  the  privations  they  often  had  to  endure  in 
order  to  fit  themselves  for  their  chosen  calling,  and  the  good  they  did  through 
their  performances  cannot  be  told  in  words.  They  came  usually  from  humble 
homes,  and,  rising  on  the  wings  of  music,  they  reached  positions  of  honor  and 
gained  at  times  great  wealth.  They  gave  the  world  untold  pleasure  by  their 
artistic  interpretations  of  art  works  ;  they  added  largely  to  our  culture  and  refine- 
ment. But  we  must  not  forget  the  many  women  who  excelled  as  pianists,  at  the 
head  of  whom  stands  Clara  Schumann,  a  nobler  musician  than  whom  never  graced 
art  history.  Though  nearly  seventy  years  old,  she  still  plays  in  European  con- 


160  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

certs,  never  failing  to  arouse  great  enthusiasm.  Then  there  is  Essipoff,  Mehlig, 
Schiller,  Krebs,  Menter,  and  our  own  King,  Carreno  and  Stevens.  But  we  must 
also  mention  the  celebrated  lady  violinists  that  shed  lustre  on  woman's  name  and 
fame.  In  the  fore  rank  of  these  stand  the  sisters  Millanollo,  who  set  the  world 
nearly  wild  with  their  performances ;  Mme.  Neruda,  who  was  a  true  artist ; 
Camilla  Urso,  who  has  almost  become  Americanized,  and  Theresa  Tua,  who  now 
astonishes  the  artistic  circles  in  Europe  with  her  skill. 

In  the  line  of  musical  literature  several  names  deserve  mention.  Perhaps  fore- 
most in  the  ranks  of  those  who  have  wielded  the  pen  in  behalf  of  music  is 
Madame  Raymond  Hitter,  of  Poughkeepsie,  who  has  written  excellent  essays, 
in  which  she  displays  much  learning.  Then  there  is  Elsa  Polko,  who  has  written 
many  pretty  stories ;  Anna  Morsh,  who  has  also  written  very  excellent  sketches ; 
while  our  own  Amy  Fay  has  made  herself  famous  through  her  letters.  Though 
they  contain  but  little  that  is  of  value  to  the  practical  musician,  these  letters  have 
been  widely  read  and  have  afforded  much  pleasure. 

We  have  seen  what  woman  has  done  in  the  fields  of  music,  and  now  it  becomes 
my  duty  to  draw  your  attention  to  the  fact  that  in  the  line  of  musical  composi- 
tion, woman  does  not  stand  as  high  as  in  the  fields  of  executive  art.  We  have  a 
Rosa  Bonheur  who  stands  high  in  the  line  of  painting.  There  are  a  few  women 
who  use  the  chisel  with  truly  artistic  skill ;  in  poetry  we  have  many  illustrious 
names,  only  one  of  which  I  shall  mention,  Mrs.  Browning.  In  the  fields  of  fiction 
woman  has  excelled,  and  the  one  name,  George  Eliot,  is  sufficient  to  prove  that 
woman  has  deep  thinking  and  close  reasoning  faculties.  But  while  woman  has 
done  much  that  is  grand  in  the  fields  of  literature  and  art,  in  the  field  of  musical 
composition  she  has  never  reached  an  eminent  position.  We  have  women  com- 

^'posers  that  are  mentioned  in  our  encyclopaedias,  but  they  are  few — only  four  in 
the  seventeenth  century,  twenty-seven  in  the  eighteenth  century,  and  seventeen 
in  the  nineteenth.  Let  me  mention  a  few  names :  Amelia,  sister  of  Frederick 
the  Great,  composed  operas  and  cantatas.  Leopoldina  Blahatka,  of  Vienna, 
published  seventy  pieces,  some  of  which  were  admired  by  Beethoven.  Josephina 

•  Long,  Mendelssohn's  friend,  composed  charming  songs.  Fanny  Hensel,  Mendels- 
sohn's sister,  wrote  many  pretty  things.  Louisa  Rugat  composed  songs  which 
enjoyed  great  popularity  in  France.  Madame  Schumann,  the  wife  of  the  famous 
composer,  produced  many  fine  numbers.  Madame  Garcia  wrote  but  few  songs, 
but  they  were  excellent  pieces.  Virginia  Gabriel,  the  English  ballader,  wrote 
songs  that  were  popular  wherever  the  English  tongue  is  spoken. 

Why  is  it  that  woman  does  not  excel  in  the  fields  of  musical  composition  ? 
Many  reasons  have  been  assigned,  but  none  of  them  are  satisfactory.  When 
considering  woman's  emotional  nature,  it  would  seem  as  if  the  field  of  musical 
composition  would  be  best  suited  for  her  activity,  for  music  is  the  language  of 
emotions.  Why  is  it,  then,  that  woman  failed  to  enter  this  field  with  more 
success?  An  organism  as  sensitive  to  the  influences  of  the  beautiful,  and  as 
responsive  to  religious  ideas,  an  organism  as  imaginative  and  emotional  as  is  that 
of  woman,  should  have  given  us  the  best  of  works.  Some  claim  that  woman 
lacks  the  necessary  reasoning  powers,  and  that  she  docs  everything  intuitively. 
The  latter  statement  is  true  in  part,  but  the  former,  namely,  that  the  thinking 
powers  of  man  are  superior.  I  cannot  subscribe  to  unqualifiedly.  True,  women 


WOMAN  IN  MUSIC.  161 

have  excelled  in  the  study  of  languages;  they  have  become  good  scientists, 
astronomers,  mathematicians,  lawyers  and  physicians;  they  have  successfully 
entered  the  lecture  field,  they  have  filled  editorial  chairs,  they  have  been  popular 
novelists,  all  of  which  goes  to  prove  that  woman  has  fine  thinking  powers.  Yet 
why  does  she  not  excel  as  a  musical  composer?  In  painting,  in  sculpture,  in 
poetry,  as  has  been  said,  woman  has  reached  high  positions  ;  as  singers  and  play- 
ers women  have  excelled,  why  not  as  composers?  Not  one  musical  work  from 
woman's  pen  has  ever  held  itself  in  the  world's  repertoire.  Says  Mr.  Upton, 
"Man  has  been  the  creative  representative."  Beethoven  has  shown  the  depth 
of  music,  its  majesty,  its  immortality,  Mendelssohn  its  elegance  of  form,  Handel 
its  solemnity  and  grandeur,  Mozart  its  wondrous  grace  and  sweetness,  Haydn  its 
purity,  freshness  and  simplicity,  Schumann  its  romance,  Chopin  its  poetry  and 
tender  melancholy,  Schubert  its  richness  in  melody,  Bach  its  massive  foundations, 
Berlioz  its  grotesqueness  and  supernaturalism,  Liszt  and  Wagner  its  poetical 
idealism  ;  but  in  the  fields  of  higher  art-music  woman  has  been  silent,  or,  if  she 
has  been  productive,  her  works  have  had  but  an  ephemeral  existence.  The  only 
answer  that  has  the  shadow  of  reasonableness  about  it  is  this,  that  music,  being 
the  language  of  emotions,  and  woman  being  preeminently  an  emotional  creature, 
she  cannot  project  herself  outward,  any  more  than  she  can  outwardly  express  the 
other  mysteries  of  her  nature.  "Woman  lives  and  acts  in  emotion,  but  she  does 
not  behold  the  results  of  her  actions  as  man  sees  them.  Woman  is  governed  by 
intuition,  man  is  governed  more  by  cool  reasoning.  Hence  it  is  that  woman 
comes  more  quickly  to  conclusions  than  man,  but  she  is  not  always  able  to  assign 
a  reason  for  those  conclusions.  It  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  men  and 
women  are  made  alike.  They  differ  in  their  aspirations,  their  traits  and  disposi- 
tions. Their  natures  manifest  themselves  differently.  The  two  characters  are 
complementary  ;  what  is  lacking  in  the  one  the  other  has,  hence  the  two  together 
make  the  whole  human  being.  The  one  is  preeminently  a  head  power,  the  other 
more  preeminently  a  heart  power.  The  mind  must  control  the  emotions ;  it  dis- 
cerns them  ;  man  can  watch  his  emotional  nature  better  than  a  woman  can  watch 
and  analyze  hers.  She  is  preeminently  a  creature  of  heart ;  she  follows  her 
emotions  and  will  power,  and  herein  she  is  usually  right,  because  hers  is  a  higher 
moral  nature ;  she  comes  into  the  world  with  purer  emotions  and  higher  aspira- 
tions. Says  a  writer,  to  confine  woman's  emotions  to  the  expression  in  music, 
would  be  about  as  difficult  a  task  for  her  as  it  would  be  for  her  to  express  her 
religion  in  thoughts.  Woman  expresses  emotions  in  music  as  if  they  were  her 
own,  but  to  deal  with  them  like  mathematical  problems,  to  measure  and  to 
express  them  through  the  voice  or  through  instruments,  is  a  cold-blooded  opera- 
tion, unsuited  to  woman's  peculiar  faculties. 

Mr.  Upton  claims  that  when  woman  advances  in  years  her  emotional  nature 
ceases  to  operate  with  its  former  intensity,  hence  she  often  loses  interest  in  music, 
while,  as  a  rule,  men  continue  in  their  devotion  to  it.  Another  writer  goes  so 
far  as  to  say  that  a  mother's  love  for  her  children  undergoes  a  change  when  these 
have  reached  the  years  of  self-support,  while  man's  love,  though  it  was  not  as 
intense  as  that  of  the  mother,  remains  the  same  till  the  end.  I  cannot  agree 
with  these  writers,  for  there  are  too  many  living  illustrations  to  the  contrary. 
Look  at  Mrs.  Schumann,  now  far  over  sixty  years  of  age,  and  yet  she  is  as  de- 
ll 


162  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

voted  to  her  art  as  she  ever  was.  I  have  played  for  aged  ladies  who  were  more 
violently  aroused  by  the  power  of  music  than  younger  women.  I  believe  that 
women  give  up  music  so  easily  when  entering  active  family  life  because  they 
never  studied  it  as  an  art  They  know  not  what  good  music  is ;  they  are  fed  on 
light,  trashy  diet ;  they  studied  and  used  the  art  merely  as  a  personal  attraction, 
as  a  means  to  rule  in  society.  When  other  duties  and  pleasures  cross  the  path 
of  such  women,  naturally  enough  they  drop  their  music ;  it  ceases  to  have  attrac- 
tions for  them,  for  it  served  its  purpose ;  it  never  had  entered  the  innermost 
recesses  of  their  hearts  and  minds.  What  else  could  be  expected  of  such  a  shal- 
low education,  if  this  word  is  at  all  applicable  here.  Give  woman  a  solid  musical 
education,  and  she  will  remain  true  to  the  art.  It  is  also  claimed  that  woman 
could  never  endure  the  hardships  which  are  incident  to  great  composers'  lives. 
She  is  not  fitted  to  endure  the  abuse,  the  severity  of  criticism,  which  is  heaped 
upon  them.  No  doubt  man  can  endure  such  trials  better  than  woman,  still,  if 
woman  had  been  designed  for  the  work  of  musical  composition,  this  power  of 
endurance  would  have  been  given  to  her  also.  No  doubt  she  is  a  finer  feeling 
mortal  than  man,  hence  more  sensitive  to  criticism.  Strange  to  say,  however, 
woman  is  not  deterred  by  fear  of  criticism  from  entering  other  fields  of  art  and 
those  of  literature,  and  even  of  politics.  If  she  can  face  it  in  one  field,  she  surely 
can  face  it  in  another. 

Music  is  purely  an  abstract  art.  It  has  nothing  tangible  about  it  The  painter 
and  sculptor  see  their  work,  the  poet  reads  his,  the  musician  only  hears  his.  Per- 
haps, if  the  art  were  more  tangible,  women  would  more  readily  become  pro- 
ductive musicians.  Or,  perhaps,  if  it  were  merely  an  art  without  a  positive 
science  underlying  it,  she  would  do  better.  As  it  is,  the  field  of  musical  compo- 
sition does  not  seem  to  be  open  to  her.  There  may  be  hidden  reasons  for  this 
state  of  things  which  we  have  not  as  yet  discerned  in  woman's  intellectual  and 
emotional  make-up ;  but  it  may  also  be  that  the  fault  lies  in  a  lack  of  education, 
in  the  neglect  of  former  years.  Music  is  a  most  delicate  plant ;  it  seems  to  grow 
only  under  favorable  circumstances.  The  development  of  music  was  most  effec- 
tively checked  in  England  during  the  reign  of  Cromwell.  Up  to  his  time  Eng- 
land had  produced  good  musicians,  excellent  composers ;  but  nearly  two  hundred 
years  were  required  to  overcome  this  check  of  musical  growth,  and  it  is  only 
during  the  past  twenty-five  years  that  England  may  point  to  productive  musi- 
cians of  note.  During  these  two  hundred  years  England  fostered  the  art,  she 
held  festivals,  but  she  failed  to  produce  eminent  composers.  May  it  not  be  that 
woman,  having  for  ages  been  neglected,  having  been  denied  the  boon  of  a  higher 
education,  will  after  many  years  of  study  excel  also  in  this  only  field  of  art  pro- 
ductiveness ?  It  is  only  of  late  years  that  women  as  a  sex  enter  more  seriously 
into  their  musical  studies,  and  we  have  at  least  the  right  to  hope  that  in  years  to 
come  this  one  shortcoming  will  be  corrected.  There  was  a  time  when  it  was  said 
that  women  could  not  do  this  or  that ;  but  behold  what  they  have  done,  and 
what  they  are  doing !  Let  all  women  study  with  seriousness,  with  diligence ; 
let  them  train  their  minds  and  develop  their  emotions ;  let  them  absorb  the  very 
essence  of  art,  hoping  that  continued  culture  and  training  will  also  open  to  them 
this  one  field  of  human  activity,  so  eminently  attractive  to  their  nature. 

As  men  have  attained  higher  views  of  woman's  sphere  and  power,  they  have 


WOMAN  IN  MUSIC.  163 

lent  a  helping  hand ;  they  have  assisted  her  in  attaining  to  a  better  education. 
It  may  require  long  years  of  labor  and  study  for  woman  to  become  a  success- 
ful musical  composer  ;  but  if  she  aims  not  in  the  right  direction  she  will  never 
attain  this  desirable  end.  Behold  how  indifferent  men  have,  as  a  rule,  been 
to  higher  art  culture  in  this  country.  If  they  practiced  music  at  all,  it  was 
done  in  a  shallow  and  meaningless  manner.  Through  the  impulses  given  by 
foreign-born  teachers,  through  the  more  thorough  education  of  the  last  two 
generations,  native  talent  began  to  develop,  and  many  years  must  yet  pass  before 
we  shah1  be  a  musical  people  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word.  But  unless  we  toil 
aud  train  unceasingly,  we  shah1  never  reach  a  high  art  standard.  Let  me  say, 
then,  to  all  young  men  and  young  women,  study  music  ;  study  it  practically  and 
theoretically ;  learn  to  appreciate  pure  art,  and  let  us  wait  for  the  blessed  results. 
America  has  pointed  to  many  new  ways ;  American  women  have  greater  educa- 
tional advantages  than  have  the  mass  of  their  sisters  abroad ;  who  knows  but 
that  America  may  yet  give  us  a  great  female  composer.  Music  should  be  made 
an  elective,  a  fit  substitute  for  any  other  study.  There  are  college  professors  who 
claim  that  music  is  an  easy  study,  and  not  an  equivalent  of  others  found  in  the 
curriculum.  Let  me  invite  you  to  try  this  study,  take  up  music  as  an  art  and  as 
a  science,  and  in  a  year's  time  you  will  acknowledge  that  there  is  not  a  branch 
now  taught  in  this  university,  metaphysics  excepted,  that  presents  more  peculiar 
difficulties,  that  needs  longer  time  for  complete  mastery,  than  the  subjects  of 
harmony,  counterpoint  and  musical  composition.  Talent  is  what  is  required ; 
gifts  are  the  long  poles  that  knock  down  the  high-hanging  fruits.  By  constant 
training,  talent  and  gifts  are  developed.  Let  us,  therefore,  do  our  duty,  letting 
the  future  take  care  of  itself. 

But  whether  we  shall  see  the  day  when  women  become  great  composers,  or  not, 
this  much  is  sure,  that  woman  is  eminently  fitted  for  the  work  of  teaching. 
With  woman's  progress  came  more  serious  views  of  the  art,  and,  therefore, 
more  serious  views  of  the  work  of  teaching  it.  Hitherto,  most  lady  music  teach- 
ers engaged  in  this  work  as  a  mere  pastime,  as  a  means  to  earn  a  little  pin-money; 
women  now  enter  our  professional  fields  with  the  expectation  of  making  the  work 
of  teaching  a  life  calling.  Women  no  longer  regard  marriage  as  the  chief  end 
of  life ;  nay,  they  begin  to  view  life  with  greater  calmness  and  with  a  clearer 
mind  than  formerly ;  they  are  determined  to  be  usefiil ;  hence  they  choose  a 
calling ;  and  I  am  glad  to  notice  that  they  engage  most  seriously  in  their  pre- 
parations for  this  work.  It  is  this  feature  of  my  work  here  that  interests  me 
most  intensely,  and  it  is  this  feature  more  than  any  other  that  at  times  draws  out 
my  deepest  sympathies.  Music  teaching  is  congenial  to  woman's  nature,  and 
those  who  will  work  hard  are  sure  to  meet  with  success.  The  standard  of  our 
profession  is  rising  steadily,  and  if  you  would  be  a  worthy  member,  you  must 
work  steadily  and  diligently ;  you  must  be  wide  awake.  Ladies  especially  should 
devote  themselves  to  singing,  for  not  only  will  it  prove  a  lucrative  study,  but  it 
is  the  foundation  of  a  thorough  musical  education,  and,  what  is  still  more,  it  is 
conducive  to  bodily  development.  It  gives  us  also  more  lovable  and  sympathetic 
voices,  thereby  increasing  our  social  powers.  We  are  too  loud-voiced  as  yet,  and 
need  toning  down.  Remember  what  the  poet  praised  in  Annie  Laurie  : — 
"Her  voice  was  low  and  sweet." 


164  MUSIC  AND   CULTURE. 

If  woman  is  not  a  composer,  she  has  been  closely  connected  with  the  produc- 
tion of  great  works.  She  has  always  exercised  a  powerful  influence  on  com- 
posers' lives.  Run  over  the  works  of  Mozart,  and  thirty-three  of  them  are 
dedicated  to  women,  very  few  to  men.  Beethoven's  name  is  thus  connected 
with  not  less  than  thirty-five  ladies,  Schumann  with  thirty-six,  Chopin  with 
thirty-nine,  and  so  forth.  These  ladies  must  all  have  been  closely  connected 
with  the  composers,  and  perhaps  with  the  special  works  dedicated  to  them. 
If  love  or  friendship  were  not  the  direct  ties,  there  must  have  been  esteem  and 
admiration,  for  men  do  not  dedicate  their  productions  to  any  one  or  every  one. 
A  dedication  is  a  mark  of  honor,  a  token  of  respect  Most  composers  were 
happy  in  love  and  chose  wisely  ;  a  few  only  remained  single  or  were  illy  matched. 
Bach  was  married  twice,  each  time  happily ;  yet  the  second  marriage  was  the 
more  congenial.  He  was  a  sturdy  Christian,  his  character  was  well  balanced,  his 
wives  were  frugal,  good  managers  and  peaceable  women.  Handel  was  not  mar- 
ried. He  loved  his  mother  most  tenderly,  and  next  to  her  he  was  wedded  to  his 
art.  In  England  he  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  the  best  ladies ;  most  noteworthy 
among  them  were  the  Queens  Anne  and  Caroline.  Handel  was  not  very  sociable, 
nor  was  he  domestic  in  his  habits.  He  had  a  hot  temper,  and  a  wedded  life 
would  likely  have  proved  to  be  stormy.  It  is  said  that  two  of  his  pupils  loved 
him  ardently,  and  both  were  ready  to  marry  him.  In  one  case  the  foolish  remark 
of  a  mother  broke  off  the  prospective  marriage.  When  the  daughter  expressed 
her  willingness  to  marry  Handel,  the  mother  said,  with  indignation,  "What! 
my  daughter  marry  a  fiddler!"  Think  of  Handel  as  a  fiddler  I  This  remark 
wounded  the  great  composer,  and  he  would  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  the 
family.  After  the  mother's  death,  the  father  approached  the  composer  again  on 
the  subject  of  matrimony,  but  Handel  coldly  replied  that  the  time  had  passed 
for  such  an  alliance.  The  lady,  who  loved  ardently,  fell  into  a  decline  and  soon 
afterwards  died.  The  other  lady  was  one  in  high  social  standing.  He  could  have 
married  her  on  condition  that  he  would  forsake  his  profession,  but  the  love  for 
music  was  greater  than  that  for  woman,  and  the  engagement  came  to  naught. 
Beethoven  loved  a  number  of  ladies  and  was  eager  to  marry,  but  all  his  endeav- 
ors in  this  direction  proved  fruitless.  He  never  found  a  fitting  companion,  and, 
indeed,  it  is  a  most  unanswerable  question  as  to  what  sort  of  a  woman  Beetho- 
ven's wife  should  have  been.  He  remained  chaste,  as  he  wrote,  says  a  writer. 
On  my  shelf  stands  a  little  volume  entitled  "Beethoven's  Loves,"  and  most 
interesting  reading  it  is.  He  loved  early  and  loved  often,  and  there  is  reason  to 
believe  that  he  was  quite  susceptible  to  woman's  charms.  He  imagined,  for 
instance,  that  a  certain  lady,  Amelia  de  Sebald,  a  great  singer,  loved  him,  because 
she  looked  at  him  intently,  but  when  he  proposed,  he  was  promptly  refused, 
"Because,"  as  the  lady  said  to  a  friend,  "he  was  so  ugly  and  half-cracked." 
Foolish  Beethoven,  he  failed  to  realize  that  as  a  musician  he  was  an  object  of 
admiration  and  curiosity,  and  that  everybody  looked  at  him  when  passing. 
The  most  noted  among  the  ladies  he  loved  was  the  Countess  Guiccardi,  to 
whom  he  dedicated  his  famous  Moonlight  Sonata.  No  doubt  this  love  was 
genuine,  and  one  can  feel  it  in  that  matchless  sonata,  but  he  was  doomed  to 
disappointment,  for  he  was  not  her  equal  in  rank.  She  afterwards  married 
a  count,  while  Beethoven  remained  single.  This  lady  exercised  a  decided 


WOMAN  IN  MUSIC.  ]65 

influence  upon  our  composer,  and  no  doubt  this  love  found  its  outlet  in  some  of 
his  matchless  productions. 

Haydu,  the  pure  and  good,  loved  a  girl  with  all  his  heart,  but  she  died  while 
he  spent  some  time  in  a  monastery.  He  married  unwisely,  his  wife  being  a 
regular  shrew,  a  bigoted,  ill-tempered,  fault-finding  woman,  who  made  his  life 
bitter.  Yet  he  was  blessed  with  the  friendship  of  many  noble-minded  women, 
chief  among  whom  was  a  Mrs.  Genzinger.  Doubtless  these  women  inspired  him 
in  the  production  of  his  last  great  works,  the  Creation  and  the  Seasons. 

Mozart  had  some  early  love  affairs,  but  he  never  loved  seriously  until  he  visited 
the  Weber  family  in  Manheim.  Weber,  who  was  the  great  composer's  uncle,  had 
two  daughters,  Aloyse  and  Constance.  He  fell  in  love  with  the  former,  and  so 
deep  was  his  affection,  that  he  could  scarcely  wait  for  the  time  when  he  should 
see  her  again.  Three  months  later  he  returned  to  the  family,  but  the  girl  scarcely 
recognized  him.  She  had  fallen  in  love  with  a  worthless  actor,  from  whom  she 
was  finally  separated.  Mozart  feigned  indifference ;  he  sang  merry  songs,  and 
soon  began  to  make  love  to  the  younger  sister,  to  whom  he  was  finally  married. 
She  proved  to  be  a  kind  and  loving  wife,  and  no  doubt  made  Mozart's  life  a 
happy  one.  He  immortalized  her  in  one  of  his  operas,  and  it  is  beyond  a  doubt 
true  that  many  of  his  best  works  were  inspired  by  her. 

Schubert  never  was  married  ;  it  is  even  doubted  whether  he  ever  was  seriously 
in  love.  In  fact,  he  was  not  in  a  position  to  support  a  wife.  Yet  he  had  his 
sentimental  friendships,  and,  had  he  married,  his  love  would  have  been  some- 
what platonic  in  its  character.  Like  Beethoven,  he  was  unattractive  in  person. 
While  spending  some  years  on  the  estates  of  the  rich  and  noble  Esterhazy  family, 
being  engaged  in  giving  music  lessons  to  the  Prince's  daughters,  he  flirted  for 
awhile  with  the  chambermaid,  and  it  is  owing  to  her  influence  that  he  produced 
his  beautiful  divertissement,  Op.  16.  This  number  contains  certain  Hungarian 
melodies  which  this  lady  was  fond  of  singing.  Next  he  fell  in  love  with  the 
younger  of  the  two  Princesses,  a  mere  child  in  years,  who  never  knew  of  the 
secret  affection  of  his  heart.  This  girl  was  the  secret  influence  that  led  him  to 
write  many  of  his  best  songs. 

Schumann  loved  only  once,  but  most  intensely.  He  had  a  hard  struggle  to  get 
the  prize  of  his  affections,  for  the  girl's  father  was  bitterly  opposed  to  the  match. 
Schumann  had  finally  to  invoke  the  aid  of  the  law  in  order  to  secure  his  Clara. 
She  was  a  famous  player,  and  proved  to  be  a  most  devoted  wife,  who  exercised  a 
powerful  influence  upon  his  mind  and  heart.  Not  less  than  one  hundred  and 
thirty-eight  songs  did  he  write  to  please  her,  and  no  doubt  many  of  his  best 
works  were  inspired  by  her.  Early  in  life  he  was  infatuated  with  a  lady,  a  Miss 
Ernestine  von  Fricken,  but  it  came  to  naught. 

Mendelssohn  was  happily  married ;  his  wife's  name  was  Cecilia.  She  was 
loving  and  true  to  the  end.  Mendelssohn  had  a  deep  love  for  his  sister  Fanny. 
She  inspired  him  to  write  many  of  his  great  works.  When  she  was  about  to  die, 
May  14th,  1847,  she  said  to  him,  "Depend  upon  it,  by  my  next  birthday  you 
will  be  with  me."  He  died  four  days  before  that  date,  on  the  4th  of  November. 

Chopin  is  the  romanticist  whom  all  ladies  love,  and  his  own  life  was  a  con- 
tinued romance.  He  was  more  of  a  woman  than  a  man,  hence  it  is  easily  under- 
stood how  a  love  sprang  up  between  him  and  the  famous  George  Sand,  who  was 


166  MUSIC  AND   CULTURE. 

more  of  a  man  than  a  woman.  Early  in  life  he  felt  an  attachment  for  a  Polish 
girl,  whom  he,  however,  forgot  after  he  fell  in  love  with  George  Sand.  The  poor 
girl  was  true  to  him  till  her  end,  and,  as  she  could  not  administer  to  his  happi- 
ness, she  cared  for  Chopin's  parents.  It  is  difficult  to  say  what  was  the  attrac- 
tion between  him  and  the  French  lady  with  whom  he  lived  for  many  years ; 
neither  can  the  story  of  their  sad  separation  be  told  in  this  connection. 

Weber  was  for  a  time  warmly  attached  to  an  opera  singer,  Gretchen  Lang,  but, 
had  he  married  her,  it  would  have  proved  an  unfortunate  alliance.  Happily,  he 
met  another  musical  lady,  Carolina  Brandt,  whom  he  loved  passionately.  The 
first-named  lady,  however,  caused  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  for  she  had  gained  a 
powerful  influence  over  the  composer.  At  last  he  met  Miss  Brandt  for  a  second 
time ;  his  former  love  was  rekindled,  and  the  two  were  married.  She  was  a 
noble  woman,  true  to  her  husband  and  his  art.  He  counseled  with  her;  she 
spurred  him  to  continued  activity  ;  and  while  she  saw  much  happiness  in  life,  she 
also  drank  deeply  of  the  cup  of  sorrow.  She  remained  true  to  her  ill-fated  hus- 
band, who  died  in  a  foreign  land. 

But  I  cannot  cease  telling  love  stories  without  at  least  mentioning  Wagner,  the 
last  of  Germany's  great  musicians.  He  married  early  but  unhappily.  To  his 
credit  it  must  be  said,  however,  that  he  never  revealed  anything  that  might  lessen 
public  esteem  of  his  wife ;  but  we  know  that  she  failed  to  enter  into  his  art  aspi- 
rations, and  as  the  earlier  life  of  Wagner  was  one  of  trouble  and  privation,  her 
surroundings  were  such  that,  without  a  full  appreciation  of  her  husband's  mission, 
she  naturally  became  unhappy.  She  died  in  1866.  Four  years  later  he  married 
the  second  time.  Liszt's  daughter,  Cossoma,  had  been  married  to  Billow  the 
pianist,  but  the  two  were  not  congenial.  She  sought  a  divorce,  and  then  married 
Wagner,  with  whom  she  lived  happily  till  his  death  in  1883.  She  is  a  true, 
high-minded  woman,  and  was  fully  worthy  of  a  place  by  the  side  of  so  great  a 
man.  She  understood  him,  exerted  almost  a  magical  influence  over  him ;  she 
inspired  him  in  his  work,  and  in  every  way  made  his  life  happy. 

And  now  that  I  have  shown  woman's  influence  in  musical  art,  let  me  urge  you 
to  follow  and  to  imitate  the  illustrious  women  whom  I  have  mentioned.  Take  it 
seriously  with  your  art,  for  unless  you  are  serious  in  your  study  of  music,  you 
will  fail  to  be  benefited  by  it.  Study  only  the  pure  and  the  good,  and  aim  to  be 
worthy  of  so  great  an  art.  Study  and  teach  with  a  singleness  of  purpose,  always 
aiming  to  make  mankind  better  and  happier.  Join  every  good  enterprise  calcu- 
lated to  advance  our  art ;  use  it  for  the  relief  of  the  poor,  for  the  enjoyment  of 
your  friends,  for  the  benefit  of  your  own  souls.  Never  abuse  it ;  ever  be  faithful 
in  your  devotions,  remembering,  that  though  your  name  may  never  be  mentioned 
in  a  lecture  or  in  a  book,  you  should  always  feel  a  deep  interest  in  woman's  wel- 
fare and  elevation.  Bear  in  mind  that  music  and  woman  are  closely  allied  in  the 
history  of  Christian  civilization.  Spread  culture  wherever  you  can  and  organize 
musical  societies  wherever  there  is  an  opening  for  them.  Though  your  life  as  a 
teacher  may  be  spent  in  a  secluded  spot,  teach  only  the  truth,  bearing  in  mind 
that  God  loves  the  art ;  that  He  has  given  it  to  us  for  a  wise  and  a  noble  purpose, 
and  that  you  are  engaged  in  a  work  which  is  honorable  and  praiseworthy,  and 
that  He  will  reward  you  and  bless  you  according  to  your  fidelity.  These  are 
among  the  pleasant  duties  that  fall  to  your  lot.  With  you  rests  the  future 


WOMAN   IX  MUSIC.  167 

welfare  of  our  art ;  witli  you  rests  a  part  at  least  of  the  civilization  of  your  own 
country  and  people.  Sow  good  seeds  and  be  hopeful  of  good  fruit.  Always 
develop  the  religious  side  of  your  work,  for  in  this  particular  woman  can  do  much 
good.  Improve  the  music  in  church  and  Sabbath  school,  by  lending  your  aid 
ungrudgingly,  wherever  it  is  needed,  and  thus  you  will  have  the  realizing  sense 
of  having  lived  and  labored  for  a  good  purpose. 

With  a  quotation  from  an  excellent  German  musical  writer,  I  will  close  my 
article.  "  There  is  no  living  soul  so  capable  of  enjoying  and  correctly  judging  of  a 
work  of  art,  as  a  fairly  cultivated  woman,  for  her  whole  inner  life  is  in  itself  a 
work  of  art.  Even  the  highest  kind  of  men  have  something  formless  and  unfin- 
ished about  their  natures.  The  hasty  demands  of  life  do  not  stop  to  inquire 
whether  it  be  Sabbath  or  not ;  they  surprise  men  amid  the  worship  of  the  beau- 
tiful, and  scarcely  give  them  time  to  refrain  from  profanation  of  the  altar.  But 
the  life  of  woman,  calm  as  a  festival  day,  how  full  of  harmony  may  it  not,  should 
it  not  be?  When  the  storm-bells  of  passion  have  rung  out,  then  pure  ether 
remains  behind,  and  in  such  minds  the  impression  made  by  a  work  of  art  is  correct 
and  immediate,  for  they  are  prepared  to  receive  it,  themselves  serene  and  pure, 
as  bridal  devotion." 


HARMONY. 


When  I  speak  of  theory,  I  do  not  use  the  term  in  that  offensive  sense  which 
implies  the  impracticable  as  opposed  to  the  sensible  and  useful.  My  object  is  not 
to  belittle  theory,  but  to  present  it  to  you  in  such  a  light  that  you  may  be  induced 
to  study  it.  Theory,  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  term,  means  an  exposi- 
tion of  the  general  principles  of  an  art  or  a  science,  and  when  viewing  it  in  this 
light,  it  follows  that  musical  theory  really  embraces  the  whole  science  of  music. 
It  touches  upon  acoustics,  upon  the  laws  of  chords,  upon  the  rules  of  composi- 
tion, in  fact,  its  field  is  immense.  Many  persons  who  endeavor  to  master  this 
science  without  a  teacher,  soon  find  themselves  in  the  predicament  of  inexpe- 
rienced travelers,  who  start  out  alone  on  a  trip  over  the  prairies  or  over  a  moun- 
tain range.  They  seem  to  get  along  well,  but  presently  they  lose  the  trail ;  they 
find  neither  roads  nor  sign-posts ;  they  miss  their  reckonings,  and  before  they  are 
aware  of  the  fact,  they  are  utterly  lost.  In  dismay  they  retreat,  and  reaching 
home  at  last,  they  warn  every  one  against  making  any  attempts  at  exploring  such 
a  wild,  rough  country.  Now,  what  is  the  real  difficulty  in  the  way  of  J7oung 
students  when  exploring  the  fields  of  harmony  ?  "What  is  it  that  so  quickly  dis- 
heartens those  in  search  of  theoretical  information  ?  It  is  this ;  students  are 
compelled  to  think  and  to  work  in  another  language,  if  it  can  indeed  be  said  that 
we  think  in  any  language.  The  signs  and  sounds  used  in  this  science  are  different 
from  those  of  the  word  language  ;  pupils  find  it  at  first  difficult  to  apply  them, 
and  in  dismay  they  are  heard  to  say  that  harmony  is  the  most  difficult  study  they 
ever  attempted  to  master.  This,  however,  is  only  an  illusion.  It  is  no  more  true 
than  the  assertion  that  music  is  all  play  and  requires  no  brain-work.  He  who 
meets  the  study  of  harmony  in  a  friendly  spirit,  with  a  calm  frame  of  mind,  he 
who  takes  time  to  study  his  problems,  will  eventually  be  forced  to  acknowledge 
that  all  things  connected  with  the  study  of  music  are  beautiful,  and  that  the 
science  of  the  art  is  just  as  attractive  as  the  practice  of  it. 

Theory  is  the  science  and  the  study  of  the  laws  requisite  to  combine  tones  so 
as  to  produce  harmony  and  melody.  It  combines  the  study  of  harmony  and 
musical  composition ;  it  is  the  art  of  inventing  correct  melodies,  and  of  supply- 
ing them  with  good  harmony.  While  the  principles  of  acoustics  underlie  all 
musical  art,  in  this  study  we  deal  more  with  principles  of  experience  and  obser- 
vation than  with  natural  science.  The  study  of  the  principles  of  acoustics  never 
leads  to  a  musical  art  development.  Students  who  dwell  upon  the  single  tone 
rarely  ever  get  beyond  it.  Some  of  the  most  learned  nations,  as,  for  instance, 
the  ancient  Grecians,  who  studied  the  tone  from  its  acoustic  standpoint  and  not 
from  its  artistic,  had  no  art  music. 

There  are  those  who  view  harmony  only  as  the  science  of  laws  necessary  for  the 
combination  of  chords ;  on  the  other  hand,  some  demand  that  it  should  also 

168 


HARMONY.  169 

explain  the  connection  of  the  senses  with  the  mind.  The  scholar  who  pursues 
the  study  from  the  first  standpoint  exclusively,  loses  much  of  its  sesthetic  beauty, 
and  necessarily  comes  down  to  cold  mathematical  rules  ;  hence  Marx,  who  was  a 
great  authority,  said  that  he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  purely  mathematical 
harmony  lessons.  Those,  on  the  other  hand,  who  follow  the  second  course,  are 
often  guilty  of  overshooting  the  mark,  losing  themselves  in  metaphysical  specu- 
lations that  lead  to  no  good. 

Harmony,  as  the  grammar  of  music,  teaches  the  rules  according  to  which  tones 
are  combined  into  chords ;  but  it  is  not  its  mission  to  prove  the  effect  of  these 
tone  combinations  upon  the  ear  and  the  soul.  Nothing  is  more  difficult  and  decep- 
tive than  to  speculate  about  our  sensations  and  emotions.  They  play  into  each 
other ;  they  are  so  mingled  and  mixed  with  each  other  that  the  most  cautious 
observer  could  not  positively  define  them,  and  show  where  and  how  they  begin, 
as  well  as  where  and  how  they  end.  There  is  not  in  our  hearts  a  single  unmixed 
emotion,  for  one  feeling  springing  up  quickly  is  apt  to  cause  many  others  to  arise. 
In  this  play  of  sentiments,  some  of  our  emotions  are  intensified,  others  are  weak- 
ened or  wiped  away  altogether.  If  the  emotions  are  so  uncertain  and  so  difficult 
to  understand,  why  should  we  make  it  a  part  of  harmony  ?  Why  should  we  try  to 
lay  down  positive  laws  as  to  how  they  should  be  expressed,  and  that  through  the 
tone,  the  least  tangible  material  artists  are  called  upon  to  use  ?  Yet  there  are 
theorists  who  extend  the  range  of  this  study  into  such  speculations,  endeavoring 
to  explore  that  mysterious  domain  of  emotion  in  connection  with  chords  and  melo- 
dies. A  study  which  in  itself  is  so  deep  and  difficult  to  master  is  deserving  of 
the  undivided  attention  of  the  best  minds. 

The  study  of  harmony  is  old,  though  music  as  an  art  is  young.  The  ancient 
Grecians  studied  out  the  mathematical  proportions  of  intervals  by  the  aid  of  the 
monochord,  upon  which  they  could  lengthen  and  shorten  a  string.  This  result 
led  them  to  imagine  that  they  had  discovered  infallible  principles  and  formulas, 
by  means  of  which  they  could  master  and  measure  all  combinations.  This  led 
them  to  the  consideration  and  study  of  the  single  tone,  and  for  this  reason  they 
were  unable  to  build  up  an  art  such  as  we  now  have.  The  ancient  Grecians 
sought  in  the  tone  proportions  and  intervals  the  key  to  the  study  of  the  soul,  and 
thus  music  became  to  them  the  foundation  of  psychology.  They  sought  in  the 
art  an  explanation  of  those  contradictions  that  manifest  themselves  in  the  human 
soul,  hence  ancient  Grecian  writers  regarded  music  as  the  science  of  all  sciences  ; 
it  explained  to  them  the  heavens  as  well  as  the  earth,  the  body  as  well  as  the 
spirit.  In  music  they  sought  to  find  what  was  the  true  nature  of  the  human 
soul,  hence  every  Grecian  scholar  had  to  study  the  theory  of  the  art,  for,  as  has 
already  been  said,  it  was  to  them  the  foundation  of  all  learning. 

This  Grecian  idea  of  music  made  its  influence  felt  among  Christian  writers. 
Only  they  sought  to  draw  an  analogy  between  religion  and  music,  hence  their 
peculiar  explanations  and  very  strange  speculations.  Let  me  quote  a  few  of  the 
principles  pupils  had  to  learn  in  those  times.  Many  writers  taught  the  lesson 
that  the  triad  or  threefold  chord  is  a  confirmation  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 
The  fourfold  chord  explained  to  them  the  four  cardinal  virtues.  They  specu- 
lated upon  the  tetrachord  in  connection  with  the  life  of  Christ ;  one-half  repre- 
sented to  them  the  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew  describing  the  humanity  of  Christ, 


170  MUSIC   AND  CULTURE. 

while  the  other  half  showed  the  end  of  his  life,  the  rending  of  the  curtain  in  the 
temple,  the  darkening  of  the  sun,  etc.  The  tetrachord  of  the  higher  tones  repre- 
sented Christ's  resurrection,  while  the  highest  tones  indicated  the  ascension. 
The  four  tetrachords  combined,  in  the  opinion  of  some  of  the  ancient  theorists, 
represented  the  four  Gospels,  while  the  two  modes,  the  authentic  and  plagal, 
were  likened  to  a  bridal  pair.  Arabo,  an  ancient  writer,  when  speaking  of  these 
modes,  said  that  they  reach  into  each  other  like  two  wheels,  and  thus  he  alludes 
to  the  vision  of  Ezekiel.  Manhettas,  of  Padua,  compares  music  to  a  tree,  the 
branches  of  which  are  arranged  in  beautiful  proportions,  its  flowers  are  sweet 
chords,  its  fruit  is  harmony.  Bernardus  said,  music  of  the  universe  is  a  grand 
whole,  which  at  the  bidding  of  God  puts  everything  into  motion,  it  moves  heaven 
and  earth.  The  octave  is  an  emblem  of  justice,  for  the  eighth  tone  was  by  the 
ancients  called  Justice.  The  fourth  refers  to  the  four  seasons,  the  four  points 
of  the  compass,  the  four  Gospels,  the  four  temperatures,  and  the  four  elements. 
Muris  saw  in  music  a  picture  of  the  church,  and  said  that  it  was  great  as  a  unit, 
though  divided  into  many  parts.  The  same  author  compared  the  two  tetra- 
chords to  Mary  and  Martha,  while  the  two  modes  plagal  and  authentic  repre- 
sented love  to  God  and  love  to  our  neighbor.  The  three  tetrachords  placed  above 
each  other,  he  said,  typify  the  three  steps  in  repentance,  they  represent  also  the 
three  kinds  of  instrument  used,  wind,  string  and  concussion.  These  three  oc- 
taves also  represent  the  Christian  graces,  Faith,  Hope  and  Charity,  and  last, 
but  not  least,  they  represent  the  holy  Trinity.  Music,  being  written  on  four 
lines,  is  an  emblem  of  the  four  Gospels.  Seven  tones  are  in  the  scale,  said  a 
writer,  and  so  we  have  seven  sacraments  opening  the  heavens,  while  the  seven 
tones  open  the  portals  of  music. 

As  late  as  1702  Andreas  Werkmeister,  in  his  theory  of  music,  advanced  many 
strange  ideas,  only  a  few  of  which  I  will  here  mention.  Says  he  :  "  We  read  in 
Scripture  that  God  built  the  world  harmoniously.  Hence,  it  is  that  Noah's  ark 
had  the  best  proportions  imaginable,  three  hundred  ells  in  length,  fifty  wide 
and  thirty  high.  When  carrying  these  proportions  to  the  monochord,  says  the 
master,  they  give  us  the  plain  triad  C.  E.  G. "  The  tabernacle,  the  temple,  and 
in  fact  all  sacred  buildings  were  erected  on  the  strictest  principles  of  harmony. 
Should  this  be  accidental,  asks  our  author?  Everywhere  we  see  harmony  and 
order,  and  out  of  this  all-wise  system  sprang  music.  This  explains  in  a  measure 
why  music  is  so  pleasing  to  man,  for  it  is  an  exhibition  of  God's  wisdom  and 
order,  and  when  these  musical  proportions  reach  the  ear  and  through  it  the 
heart,  they  cannot  fail  to  touch  us.  Hence,  Luther  said,  "that  he,  who  does  not 
love  music,  has  not  a  good  heart,  he  is  a  rough  block.  Why  do  the  people  fail 
to  like  music,"  asks  our  great  Reformer?  Simply  because  their  souls  are  in  a 
disturbed  condition,  their  nerves  are  not  easily  moved,  their  systems  are  not 
built  according  to  the  rules  of  that  eternal  harmony  and  order  which  underlies 
nature. 

But  this  is  enough  of  strange  and  idle  speculations.  After  their  unsoundness 
had  been  shown  and  understood,  the  subject  of  harmony  separated  into  two  divi- 
sions. The  one  followed  up  the  metaphysical  side  of  music  and  aimed  to  solve 
the  secret  workings  of  the  art ;  the  other  depended  upon  physical  principles  exclu- 
sively and  sought  through  them  to  lay  the  foundation  for  our  present  system  of 


HARMONY.  171 

harmony.  The  first  relied  on  uncertain  speculations,  the  other  depended  upon 
exact  facts. 

The  ancient  Grecian  ideas  were  slow  to  pass  away.  Thus,  even  Kepler,  the 
astronomer,  revived  the  ancient  Pythagorean  theory  of  a  music  of  the  spheres. 
All  Christendom  then  thought  the  whole  secret  of  music  had  been  discovered.  He 
also  taught  that  our  likes  and  dislikes  for  intervals  must  necessarily  be  more  in- 
stinctive than  intelligent.  Leibnitz,  on  the  other  hand,  was  of  the  opinion  that 
the  soul  unconsciously  counts  the  vibrations  of  bodies.  According  to  Euler,  he 
is  the  best  critic  who  can  turn  the  unknown  countings  into  known  ones.  Kant, 
Herder  and  Krause,  however,  are  opposed  to  this  theory.  The  latter  day  phi- 
losophers have  decided  that  while  Leibnitz's  theory  is  true,  it  only  solves  the  first 
riddle,  the  sensual  influence  of  music.  Helmholtz  also  advances  an  idea  of  this 
kind.  After  explaining  the  unconsciousness  of  the  perceptions  of  form  and  law, 
he  says  :  ' '  "We  resemble  the  spirit  which  we  comprehend. "  If  we  feel  the  spirit- 
ual powers  that  operated  in  the  artist,  powers  which  are  far  superior  to  our  own 
conscious  thinking,  we  must  acknowledge  that  an  immense  amount  of  tune,  con- 
templation and  labor  is  required  to  produce,  as  well  as  to  comprehend,  the  same 
degree  of  order,  connection,  proportion  and  symmetry,  which  the  artist  establishes 
unconsciously  through  tact  and  taste,  and  which  by  our  own  tact  and  taste  we  can 
appreciate  in  an  art-work.  It  is  upon  this  fact  that  the  appreciation  of  art  and 
art-works  depends.  We  recognize  in  the  first  the  Genius,  that  divine  spark  of 
creative  power,  that  goes  beyond  the  lines  of  our  own  conscious  thinking  and 
reasoning,  that  distinguishes  the  artist  from  common  mortals.  Nevertheless, 
let  us  realize  that  the  artist  is  but  a  man,  as  we  are,  and  that  we  have  the 
same  powers  of  mind  as  he  has,  those  very  powers  which  have  helped  to  produce 
the  art-work ;  if  it  were  not  so  we  could  not  understand  his  language  and  its 
meaning.  Herein  lies  the  basis  of  the  moral  influence  and  the  pleasant  satisfac- 
tion which,  is  produced  by  art-works. 

Being  a  scientist,  Helmholtz  evidently  lacks  the  courage  or  the  ability  to  dive 
into  the  psychological  and  metaphysical  relations  of  music.  The  same  is  true  of 
all  those  that  make  acoustics  a  specialty.  These  higher  investigations  are  left  to 
those  who  study  out  the  aesthetic  side  of  our  art.  Our  study,  therefore,  has 
nothing  directly  to  do  with  the  philosophical  meaning  and  object  of  our  art,  yet 
in  our  lessons,  we  are  often  called  upon  to  touch  on  this  very  deep  and  broad  sub- 
ject. The  main  study,  then,  before  us  is  that  of  chord  combinations  and  of  a 
harmonic  treatment  of  melodies. 

The  science  of  music,  the  study  of  harmony,  is  a  progressive  study.  The 
ancients  knew  nothing  of  harmony  such  as  we  use.  When  they  sang  with  sev- 
eral voices,  they  produced  the  same  tune  an  octave  lower  or  higher.  The  ancients, 
therefore,  did  not  deal  with  chords  such  as  we  use.  They  knew  only  melody, 
hence  their  theory  never  goes  beyond  that  of  the  modes  (scales).  Their  musi- 
cians, and  especially  their  theorists,  were  divided  into  two  schools,  the  Pythago- 
rean and  Aristoxenian.  The  former  depended  upon  mathematical  calculations 
exclusively,  the  latter  upon  the  ear.  The  Pythagorean  proportions  were  accepted 
throughout  the  Middle  Ages,  and  even  up  to  1590,  as  were  many  other  Grecian 
theories  and  ideas.  As  we  developed  harmony  in  the  modern  sense,  the  Grecian 
ideas  would  not  hold  out,  and  thus  musicians  were  compelled  to  step  upon  the 


172  MUSIC  AND   CULTURE. 

purely  empiric  field  to  determine  the  laws  upon  which,  modern  music  was  to  be 
built,  and  upon  the  basis  of  which  it  could  develop  throughout  coming  centuries 
of  progress.  These  rules  once  established,  the  art  could  and  did  develop.  A 
real  system  of  chords  did  not  exist  until  1720.  All  harmony  prior  to  that  tune 
was  written  from  a  contrapuntal  standpoint,  four  voices  running  by  the  side  of 
each  other,  each  carrying  the  melody.  A  true  harmony  is  a  system  of  laws  upon 
which  all  chords  that  occur  in  music  may  be  written.  It  must  be  acknowledged 
that  the  works  of  the  last  century  are  still  the  best  authorities,  though  in  many 
respects  they  are  antiquated,  and  can  no  longer  be  used. 

In  former  times,  scores  or  full  harmonic  accompaniments  were  rarely  ever  fully 
written  out.  They  gave  the  bass  and  added  to  it  chord  signatures,  from  which 
musicians  played.  This  short-hand  writing  is  called  thorough  bass.  To  enable 
a  person  to  play  from  a  thorough  bass  or  figured  bass,  a  complete  knowledge  of 
harmony  is  required.  This  study  I  desire  to  commend  as  absolutely  necessary  for 
a  complete  mastery  of  music.  The  time  has  come  when  no  one  will  dare  to  pre- 
tend to  teach  the  art  who  has  not  mastered  this  science,  and  in  the  estimation 
of  musicians,  no  one,  pupil  nor  teacher,  amateur  nor  artist,  should  be  without 
thorough  training  in  it.  And  now  that  I  have  commended  it,  the  question,  no 
doubt,  is  asked  :  What  are  the  advantages  to  be  derived  from  this  study  ?  The 
study  of  harmony  is  for  those  who  wish  to  understand  and  fully  enjoy  music, 
vocal  or  instrumental,  as  well  as  for  composers.  It  increases,  manifold,  both  the 
mental  and  the  emotional  pleasure  of  what  one  is  hearing,  if  he  knows  the  inner 
meaning  of  what  is  performed,  and  this  harmony  reveals.  But  those  who  do  not 
understand  harmony  can  only  enjoy  a  surface  gratification,  even  of  the  most  com- 
mon styles  of  music,  and  they  are  to  a  degree  shut  out  from  enjoying  the  grand 
creations  of  the  great  masters.  The  lamp  of  harmony  makes  light  and  clear  to 
the  mental  vision  the  obscure  passages,  so  that  instead  of  a  hazy  mass  of  tone, 
one  sees  a  clear  field  of  beautiful  emotional  thought  The  performer  who  does 
not  know  the  science  of  harmony  is  much  like  a  person  reciting  a  poem  in  a  lan- 
guage which  he  does  not  understand.  No  musical  education  is  complete  without 
a  working  knowledge  of  this  important  branch.  It  enables  the  performer  to  put 
both  head  and  heart  into  his  work,  and  that  with  a  far  greater  intensity  of  expres- 
sion. One  cannot  express  that  which  he  does  not  know.  To  thoroughly  under- 
stand a  passage  of  music  is  the  best  possible  help  to  overcome  both  its  technical 
and  artistic  difficulties.  Gretry  says,  "Pearls  do  not  float  on  the  surface;  they 
must  be  sought  for  in  the  deep,  and  that  often  with  danger. ' '  The  performance 
of  an  intelligent  musician  is  always  easily  recognized.  When  hearing  it,  we  are 
conscious  that  the  artist  has  solved  the  problem,  that  he  has  been  in  the  deep 
after  the  pearls. 

Some  of  the  direct  and  practical  every-day  uses  of  harmony  are  :  It  teaches 
the  student  to  estimate  music  more  at  its  real  value,  so  that  he  will  think  the 
divine  art  something  more  than  a  mere  fancy.  It  will  help  him  to  tell  good  from 
poor  music.  His  taste  will  be  on  a  solid  foundation,  and  not  an  indefinable  emo- 
tion. Music  will  be  real  to  him,  and  not  some  ethereal  thing  dropped  from  the 
clouds.  It  gives  ability  to  correct  misprints  found  in  every  piece  of  music,  thus 
saving  the  performer  many  a  pitfall.  It  teaches  scales  and  keys,  an  important 
bit  of  knowledge,  too  often  neglected,  for  the  performer  should  know  in  what  key 


HARMONY.  173 

he  is  performing,  and  should  recognize  the  modulations  in  his  piece  as  he  passes 
them.  The  more  we  understand  a  piece,  the  better  we  enjoy  it.  It  fosters  con- 
fidence and  repose  to  know  all  about  what  one  is  playing.  Harmony  is  an  indis- 
pensable help  in  reading  and  playing  scales,  chords  and  arpeggios ;  it  teaches  how 
to  modulate  from  one  key  into  another,  and  how  to  make  interludes.  "We  all 
more  or  less  play  church  music,  and  harmony  fully  prepares  us  for  it.  It  is  a 
great  help  in  memorizing,  for  it  classifies  in  groups  what  otherwise  would  be  a 
hopeless  mass  of  notes.  It  is  easier  to  commit  what  is  understood,  and,  to  classify 
chords  makes  short  work  of  a  long  subject,  for  music  is  made  up  of  scales,  chords, 
Arpeggios,  and  these  harmony  teaches,  so  that  we  can  recognize  the  common  forms 
at  a  glance.  To  the  teacher  of  music  it  is  a  necessity,  for  he  must  be  able  to  ex- 
plain, and  to  give  reasons  for  his  opinions  and  statements,  and  surely  he  should 
be  able  to  talk  about  music  in  a  common  sense  way.  His  opinions  and  judg- 
ments will  be  sought  by  friends  and  pupils  because  of  his  theoretical  knowledge, 
his  ready  and  correct  answers,  and  thus  he  will  increase  his  power,  his  reputation 
and  popularity.  A  teacher  of  music  cannot  maintain  a  position  in  the  profession 
without  a  working  knowledge  of  his  subject,  for  he  must  be  able  to  teach  it  to  his 
pupils,  and  here  comes  in  the  direct  money  value  of  his  knowledge.  Harmony 
is  a  great  aid  in  helping  us  to  accompany  the  voice  in  song.  It  enables  one  to 
transpose  pieces  to  other  and  more  desirable  keys,  and  this  is  often  indispensable 
to  a  singer  or  accompanist.  Not  the  least  of  its  advantages  is  the  continual  use 
one  is  obliged  to  make  of  harmony  in  the  use  of  the  pedals,  and  to  use  them  cor- 
rectly in  a  higher  grade  of  music,  the  knowledge  of  harmony  is  indispensably 
necessary.  In  order  that  we  may  sing  or  play  intelligently,  whether  as  teacher 
or  pupil,  the  study  of  harmony  is  needed.  Whether  you  will  become  composers 
or  not,  it  is  a  delight  to  any  musician  to  note  down  his  ideas.  The  skill  to  do 
this  you  acquire  in  the  study  of  musical  composition,  and  the  knowledge  of  the 
forms  and  rules  that  underlie  a  tone  poem,  again  enables  you  to  better  perform 
the  works  of  the  masters.  Moreover  no  one  can  learn  to  improvise  in  correct 
style  without  a  thorough  knowledge  of  both  harmony  and  composition.  In  fact 
the  mastery  of  these  branches  makes  you  a  skillful  musician,  a  master  in  your 
art  as  player  and  as  teacher.  Of  course,  studying  harmony  and  composition  will 
not  impart  to  you  the  gift  of  authorship,  for  that  is  inborn,  but  it  enables  you  to 
develop  and  to  use  what  gifts  you  may  possess,  and  many  students,  after  study- 
ing these  branches,  discovered  greater  talents  than  they  supposed  they  possessed. 
At  any  rate  you  may  accept  it  as  a  fact,  that  in  these  days  of  musical  progress 
you  cannot  dispense,  as  teachers,  with  a  knowledge  of  these  two  branches. 

The  rules  of  harmony  and  composition  are  deduced  from  the  best  works  of  the 
masters,  and  as  the  art  advances,  new  laws  must  necessarily  be  established.  A 
Wagner  or  a  Liszt  could  not  confine  himself  to  those  rules  which  we  derived 
from  the  works  of  a  Mozart.,  a  Haydn,  or  a  Bach,  but  the  rules  which  these 
masters  have  laid  down  will  be  as  binding  upon  the  student  of  the  future  as  they 
were  binding  upon  these  masters  themselves.  The  modern  composers  have 
stepped  over  the  boundaries  of  the  past,  and  their  works  must  be  viewed  in  that 
light. 

Practice  must  always  precede  theory.  We  do  not  lay  down  rules  unless  they 
have  established  their  right  to  existence  through  practical  demonstration  in  works 


174  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

of  art.  By  far  too  many  students  are  satisfied  with  mere  practice,  with  mere 
technical  production,  but  of  intelligent  musicians  we  make  greater  demands.  A 
knowledge  of  theory  is  an  indication  of  a  higher  education.  It  is  not  expected 
that  you  as  teachers  should  be  composers,  but  it  is  expected  of  you  that  you 
should  be  art  teachers,  and  this  implies  a  mastery  of  harmony  and  composition. 
If  you  lack  the  gifts  of  composition  cultivate  your  powers  as  far  as  you  can.  By 
doing  this,  no  one  will  dare  to  blame  you  for  a  lack  of  knowledge. 

It  is  an  old  saying,  that  knowledge  is  power,  and  this  is  especially  applicable 
to  the  study  of  harmony,  for  it  gives  power  to  the  pianist.  I  hardly  need  to  tell 
you  that  it  is  a  comfort  to  the  teacher  to  see  students  strive  to  acquire  this  power, 
hence  there  is  no  more  important,  and  to  me  more  interesting,  class  than  the 
harmony  class.  A  pianist  without  a  thorough  knowledge  of  harmony  is,  and 
always  must  be  powerless.  A  little  knowledge  may  be  dangerous,  but  a  little 
harmony  helps  a  musician  wonderfully.  If  you  cannot  study  it  for  one  or  two 
years,  study  it  as  long  as  you  can,  get  a  little  of  it,  for  this  is  better  than  no 
knowledge  at  all.  I  am  sure  when  you  have  acquired  the  little  spoken  of,  you 
will  desire  more.  When  you  once  begin  to  enjoy  the  freedom  which  harmony 
affords  you  (for  every  pianist  without  this  knowledge  is  handicapped),  you  are 
sure  to  cry  for  more  liberty.  A  pianist  cannot  know  too  much,  he  cannot  equip 
himself  too  well.  The  teacher  without  harmony  is  as  a  hoodwinked  guide,  he  is 
helpless,  he  is  sure  to  stumble  and  fall.  He  is  shorn  of  power,  hence  he  cannot 
impart  it,  he  cannot  educate  pupils  to  that  standard  of  freedom  which  alone 
affords  true  pleasure  in  art. 

And  now  a  few  practical  hints.  It  is  absolutely  necessary  that  you  should 
advance  slowly  in  these  studies.  Rapid  work  never  amounts  to  much.  The 
smaller  and  the  more  condensed  the  text-book  is,  the  slower  should  our  progress 
be,  as  viewed  merely  from  the  standard  of  pages  to  be  read.  As  in  geometry,  in 
algebra,  in  logic,  etc.,  the  whole  ground  must  be  carefully  gone  over  and 
thoroughly  studied.  It  will  not  do  to  pick  out  certain  lessons  and  neglect  others ; 
on  the  contrary,  every  lesson  is  of  importance,  every  lesson  must  be  mastered,  else 
the  results  are  defective.  There  are  teachers  who  promise  to  take  you  over  the 
entire  field  of  harmony  in  a  few  lessons,  but  I  frankly  confess  my  inability  to  do 
this.  A  person  may  tell  much  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  but  telling  is  not 
teaching. 

But  say  some,  "In  the  study  of  theory  we  enter  too  much  into  the  mental  and 
too  little  into  tke  emotional  nature  of  music,  thereby  losing  its  true  enjoyment" 
This  is  as  untrue  and  unsound  as  it  would  be  to  say  that  he  who  studies  art, 
ceases  to  enjoy  flowers  or  landscapes,  or  he  who  measures  the  stars  and  marks 
their  course,  will  no  longer  enjoy  the  stany  heavens  in  all  their  beauty.  If  the 
practical  part  of  the  art  gives  you  so  much  pleasure,  how  much  more  delight 
would  it  afford  you,  were  you  to  know  its  principles  more  fully.  What  if  theory 
appeals  preeminently  to  the  mind,  does  it  follow  that  there  is  no  beauty  in  the 
study?  Is  there  no  beauty  in  mathematics,  in  geometry  and  trigonometry? 
Surely  there  is. 

The  rules  of  harmony  are  very  simple  and  comparatively  few.  We  have  not 
many  chords  nor  are  there  many  inversions.  We  have  only  two,  the  major  and 
minor  modes,  we  have  only  the  triad  and  fourfold  chords,  and  their  derivatives, 


HARMONY.  175 

and  out  of  this  simple  material  the  grandest  symphonies  are  built.  Great  intel- 
lect, of  course,  is  needed  to  produce  such  works,  but  the  intellect  alone  would 
accomplish  nothing;  the  heart  power,  the  inspiration  is  also  needed.  This  is  the 
power  that  leads  man,  as  in  a  state  of  clairvoyance,  to  find  those  hidden  paths, 
those  mysteries  of  the  art  which  the  pure  intellect,  the  reasoning  faculties  would 
never  discover.  Yet  great  as  this  power  is,  being  divine  in  its  origin,  it  must 
conform  to  law,  to  the  rules  of  the  beautiful.  But  say  some  pupils,  these  laws 
are  oppressive,  they  hinder  me  in  my  work,  they  obstruct  my  path  on  every  side, 
hence  I  am  opposed  to  them.  The  same  objections  are  raised  by  the  evil  doers 
against  the  common  law  of  the  country.  Its  authority  obstructs  their  course  on 
every  side  and  for  this  reason  they  dislike  it.  The  law  does  not  impair  or  injure 
the  rights  of  the  good  citizen ;  he  is  free  under  the  law,  for  he  chooses  the  good 
in  preference  to  the  evil.  So  he  who  has  mastered  the  laws  of  harmony  and 
composition  feels  not  their  restrictions ;  he  is  a  free  musician,  for  having  studied 
the  laws  and  forms,  he  knows  and  appreciates  their  force  and  value  and  cheer- 
fully submits  to  them.  He  is  a  free  man  under  the  law.  To  rebel,  therefore. 
against  musical  rules  is  an  indication  of  evil  inclinations,  of  improper  musical  con- 
duct, and  surely  of  ignorance.  This  opposition  to  the  study  of  harmony  should 
be  the  strongest  reason  why  such  students  should  at  once  commence  to  study  it. 

Have  I  succeeded  in  showing  the  advantages  of  this  study  ?  If  so,  do  not  you 
who  mean  to  be  thorough  with  your  work,  think  you  ought  to  devote  the  neces- 
sary time  and  labor  to  master  it  ? 


THE  IMAGINATION. 


The  imagination  is  of  such  great  value  to  the  musician,  not  only  in  the  capacity 
of  composer,  but  in  that  of  a  player  and  singer,  that  it  is  a  proper  subject  for 
our  consideration.  The  imagination  is  that  mental  power  which  combines,  cre- 
ates and  pictures ;  it  enables  us  to  produce  new  forms,  new  situations,  and  that 
without  the  aid  of  the  senses.  This,  no  doubt,  is  a  defective  definition,  but  it 
is  almost  impossible  to  define  in  one  or  two  sentences  such  an  abstract  term,  and 
it  is  especially  difficult  in  view  of  the  fact  that  this  faculty  is  so  varied  in  its  rela- 
tions and  manifestations.  When  viewing  it,  however,  in  its  relations  to  the  arts 
alone,  we  have  come  close  enough  to  its  meaning  to  satisfy  us.  The  imagination 
is  that  power  which  has  created — using  the  term  in  a  finite  sense — all  the  great 
works  in  the  domain  of  art,  from  the  ancient  times  down  to  the  present. 

The  imagination  should  be  viewed  in  a  twofold  sense,  once  as  a  productive,  and 
again  as  a  reproductive  faculty.  The  productive  faculty  is  the  higher  of  the  two ; 
it  is  the  great  power  which  distinguishes  men  of  genius.  The  reproductive  fac- 
ulty is  somewhat  alh'ed  to  memory,  and  it  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  draw  the  line 
which  divides  them.  The  imagination  is  usually  most  vivid  in  youth,  which  is 
full  of  fancy  pictures  of  the  future.  Young  people  often  live  in  a  fairyland ; 
they  dwell  in  air  castles ;  they  see  everything  in  a  halo  of  glory ;  the  sun  is 
golden,  the  flowers  speak  poetry,  the  rivulet  sings,  all  nature  speaks  with  a  pow- 
erful voice  to  their  imaginations.  All  events  of  youthful  life  are  invested  with  a 
halo  of  imagination,  and  when  we  leave  home  and  wander  in  strange  lands, 
memory  is  aided  by  the  imagination,  and  what  seemed  once  very  prosaic  is  now 
certain  to  be  painted  in  poetic  colors.  Distance  lends  enchantment.  It  is  the 
power  of  the  imagination  that  draws  men  back  to  their  old  homes,  even  after 
many  years  of  absence.  The  fancy  pictures  painted  by  youthful  perceptions,  and 
intensified  by  an  ever  active  imagination,  act  as  a  magnet ;  they  produce  a  long- 
ing that  is  almost  irresistible.  Alas  ?  very  frequently  the  reality  proves  that 
the  imagination  is  guilty  of  exaggeration,  is  guilty  of  lying,  and  thus  the  spell 
is  broken;  the  wanderer  wonders  how  he  could  ever  have  experienced  such 
foolish  longings,  and  the  realistic  picture  having  taken  the  place  of  the  idealistic, 
he  turns  away  disenchanted  and  saddened.  The  same  process  occurs  in  life  almost 
every  day.  Dreamy,  imaginative  youth  sees  a  fairyland  before  it,  but  gradually 
and  slowly  the  lesson  is  pressed  upon  the  mind  that  the  dreams  of  youth  were 
mere  fancy  pictures,  and  that  life  is  real,  stern  and  often  even  cruel.  Still,  we 
love  to  turn  back  to  youth  as  the  ever-flowing  fountain  of  joy  and  pleasure,  and 
that  simply  for  the  reason  that  we  cannot  recall  it,  but  we  can  bring  before  our 
minds  the  picture  of  our  youth  and  our  childhood  home.  But  if  we  could  see 
them  as  they  really  were,  we  would  soon  be  disenchanted.  Look  at  our  own  past. 
When  reviewing  life,  we  believe  the  past  to  have  been  happier  than  the  present. 

176 


T1I£  IMAGINATION. 


The  older  we  become,  the  weaker  is  memory  and  the  stronger  becomes  the  imagi- 
nation in  drawing  fancy  pictures  of  youth  and  home.  Imagination  little  by  little 
wipes  away  all  unpleasant  recollections,  and  casts  a  perfect  halo  over  the  scenes 
that  were  pleasant. 

The  creative  power  creates  that  which  had  no  existence  ;  the  reproductive  power 
brings  before  our  minds  scenes  and  situations  which  have  already  made  an  impres- 
sion upon  us,  and  it  is  this  faculty  which  is  of  great  aid  to  the  pianist  and  singer, 
who  are  reproducing  what  the  composer  has  created.  Three  qualities  are  required 
in  order  that  the  imagination  may  successfully  perform  its  mission,  namely,  expe- 
rience or  observation,  correct  taste,  and  a  good  amount  of  enthusiasm.  Experience 
and  observation,  because  by  it,  we  store  our  mind  with  pictures,  scenes  or  situa- 
tions ;  good  taste  enables  us  to  choose  only  that  which  is  good  and  pure ;  and 
enthusiasm,  because  without  it  the  artist  is  unable  to  clothe  his  forms  and  visions 
with  life,  without  it  he  fails  to  arouse  observation  and  sentiment  in  others,  with- 
out it  his  work  will,  in  short,  be  lifeless.  It  is  a  fine  question  to  decide  which 
really  is  the  art-work,  the  printed  copy,  or  the  performance  of  the  same.  It  is  a 
disputed  question  whether  the  musician  in  his  performances  should  simply  give 
the  art- work  as  he  conceives  it  to  have  come  from  the  composer's  mind,  or  whether 
he  may  be  allowed  to  put  upon  it  the  impress  of  his  own  imagination. 

Without  wishing  to  enter  into  a  discussion  which  is  foreign  to  our  subject,  it 
may  be  said  that  the  imagination  is  not  the  divine  spark,  yet  it  is  no  doubt  one 
of  the  highest  faculties  of  the  human  mind.  The  creative  and  the  reproductive 
powers  spring  from  the  same  source,  they  are  much  the  same  faculty,  but  of 
different  degrees. 

All  intelligent  persons  are  endowed  with  more  or  less  imaginative  powers. 
While  only  the  few  produce  or  create,  all  may  reproduce  situations  and  sentiments. 
Those  who  are  permitted  to  open  to  us  new  scenes,  to  call  forth  new  sentiments, 
are,  as  has  been  stated,  our  men  of  genius,  they  are  the  favored  ones  who  may 
walk  in  and  out  at  pleasure,  among  the  gods  on  Parnassus  Hill.  But  does  not 
the  inventor  also  produce  that  which  is  new  ?  Certainly ;  but  he  does  not  work 
through  the  imagination.  He  employs  reason,  he  starts  out  with  certain  tangible 
facts,  he  relies  upon  the  laws  of  nature,  he  uses  the  unerring  rules  of  mathe- 
matics and  geometry,  as  well  as  the  discoveries  already  made  in  the  fields  of  science. 
The  artist,  however,  fashions  his  work  in  a  different  workshop  of  the  brain. 
Look  at  the  Symphonies  and  Sonatas  by  Beethoven  !  Where  did  the  artist 
fashion  these  lovely  productions  if  not  in  his  imagination?  All  of  you  have 
read  Shakespeare's  "Midsummer  Night's  Dream;"  from  whence  than  his 
fruitful  imagination  could  such  a  production  have  sprung  ?  It  may  therefore  be 
said,  that  the  works  of  the  useful  arts  are  the  products  of  reason,  while  those  of 
the  fine  arts  are  the  products  of  the  imagination.  They  are  truly  created,  as  far 
as  mortal  man  can  create.  Carl  Maria  von  Weber  said,  "Grod  allows  man  to 
create,  so  that  through  his  creative  activity  he  may  show  forth  his  divine  origin." 
The  imagination  first  fashions,  then  produces.  Next,  memory  retains  and  impresses 
upon  the  mind  these  productions.  After  this,  and  not  until  then,  does  reason 
discharge  its  functions,  by  sitting  in  judgment  over  the  work  of  the  imagination, 
applying  the  laws  of  harmony,  composition  and  aesthetics.  The  study  of  these 
branches  is  therefore  an  absolute  necessity,  even  to  him  who  is  gifted  with  the 
12 


178  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

most  powerful  imagination.  He  who  lacks  education,  but  has  imagination,  gener- 
ally produces  ill-shaped,  defective  works.  Without  education,  without  the  rules 
of  science,  the  most  imaginative  person  is  helpless,  as  helpless  as  he  who  has  mas- 
tered all  the  laws  of  composition,  but  lacks  the  power  of  imagination.  We  must 
study  the  works  of  the  masters  in  order  to  learn  from  them,  as  well  as  to  awaken 
within  us  and  to  properly  direct,  the  powers  of  our  own  imaginations.  There 
are,  however,  some  gifted  with  productive  powers  who  abstain  purposely  from 
coming  in  contact  with  master  minds,  for  fear  their  originality  might  be  de- 
stroyed. Usually  they  are  those  who  have  but  limited  powers,  and  the  children 
of  their  imagination  are  always  hollow-eyed,  hump-backed,  bow-legged  and  what- 
not else.  Such  originality  surely  is  not  creditable.  Again,  there  are  students 
who  rebel  against  rules  and  laws,  because  they  are  restrictive,  and  in  their  estima- 
tion altogether  too  oppressive.  The  educated  artist  is  as  little  fettered  by  the 
laws  of  his  art  as  the  law-abiding  citizen  is  oppressed  by  the  laws  of  his  country. 
In  order  to  make  the  operation  of  the  imagination,  in  its  relations  to  scientific 
musical  laws,  plain  to  you,  let  me  say,  that  the  imagination  is  to  the  artist  what 
the  sails  are  to  the  ship  ;  they  are  the  propelling  power.  His  reason,  applying 
the  laws,  is  the  rudder  that  steers  the  ship  safely,  the  power  that  gives  correct 
shape  to  his  ideas.  The  imagination  usually  is  set  to  work  through  sentiment, 
and  when  it  is  at  work,  the  artist  must  be  regarded  as  a  sort  of  an  involuntary 
actor.  If  the  artist  is  gifted  with  great  productive  powers,  if  he  is  an  educated 
man  well  drilled  in  the  theory  and  practice  of  his  art,  if  his  emotions  are  pure 
and  his  aspirations  noble,  he  will  produce  great  works,  but  if  any  of  these  faculties 
be  defective  this  defect  is  sure  to  be  noticeable  in  his  work.  No  matter  how 
great  the  works  are  which  the  imagination  has  produced,  this  fact  must  always 
be  borne  in  mind,  that  there  is  nothing  perfect  under  the  sun,  nothing  perfect 
can  come  from  the  human  mind  or  hand. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  useful  arts  are  the  product  of  reason  and  not  of  the 
imagination.  Scientists  often  apply  themselves  so  closely  to  their  studies  that 
the  faculties  of  the  imagination  cease  to  operate  freely.  Dealing  constantly  with 
facts,  they  fail  to  cultivate  the  fancy,  they  neglect  to  give  sway  to  the  imagina- 
tion. Having  found  it  to  be  an  untrustworthy  faculty  as  regards  their  peculiar 
work,  they  have  checked  it  whenever  it  showed  signs  of  growing.  This  explains 
why  scientists  so  often  fail  to  grasp  the  true  meaning  of  art,  this  explains  why 
some  of  them  have  such  a  low  view  of  it.  From  this  it  is  plain,  that  scientists 
rarely  ever  become  artists,  while  the  artist  would  prove  a  miserable  failure  as  a 
scientist.  The  one  is  exact  to  the  minutest  details,  the  other  is  a  dreamer,  he 
soars  aloft,  is  at  liberty  to  fashion  the  creatures  of  his  imagination  as  he  pleases. 
It  is  for  this  reason  that  mathematics  and  music  are  regarded  antagonistic.  Yet 
this  need  not  be  the  case.  Mozart,  the  great  musician,  whose  imagination  has 
created  wondrous  works,  was  exceedingly  fond  of  solving  mathematical  problems, 
while  the  great  Herschel,  he  who  calculated  the  motion  of  the  heavenly  bodies 
with  unerring  certainty,  started  his  life's  career  as  a  G-erman  band  master. 

The  imagination  always  aims  at  something  beyond  the  real,  something  without 
the  world,  and  when  it  is  at  work,  the  artist  dwells  in  an  atmosphere  foreign  to 
real  life.  The  affairs  of  this  world  then  lose  all  interest  to  him  ;  he  is,  as  it  were, 
spellbound,  he  is  under  art  influences,  and  he  looks  at  the  pictures  of  his  fancy 


THE  IMAGINATION.  179 

as  they  appear  in  his  imagination,  just  as  men  look  at  beautiful  pictures.  It  is 
not  surprising  that  at  such  an  hour  artists  love  to  be  alone,  for  they  fear  the 
intruder  would  disturb  them  and  stop  the  work  of  their  minds.  Everything 
foreign  to  their  mental  and  aesthetic  existence  is  distasteful  then.  This  spell  is 
so  powerful  that  men  yield  to  it  in  the  face  of  great  privations ;  they  deny  them- 
selves every  creature  comfort,  in  order  to  gratify  their  inclinations.  The  average 
man,  however,  laughs  at  all  this ;  he  calls  the  man  thus  under  the  influence  of 
his  imagination,  a  fool,  a  worthless  fellow,  lacking  common  sense,  a  man  with  a 
hobby,  a  man  with  one  idea.  Wagner  said  that  a  composer,  when  at  work,  is  in 
a  state  of  clairvoyance  ;  the  same  should  be  true  with  regard  to  players,  but  to  a 
less  degree.  When  playing  or  singing  good  music  we  should  be  beyond  the 
present,  our  imagination  should  be  active,  it  should  aid  us  in  the  performance  of 
music.  The  musician  must  thus  quickly  turn  from  one  picture  of  fancy  to 
another ;  his  whole  self  must  be  concentrated  in  what  he  sees  or  does  ;  the  world 
outside  is,  so  to  speak,  dead  to  him.  This  concentration  of  self  on  one  subject, 
this  changing  from  one  scene  to  another,  explains  the  changeableness  and  moods 
of  artists.  Seeing  an  object  of  sorrow,  they  suffer  intensely,  while  the  next 
moment  their  tears  may  be  changed  into  smiles ;  a  pleasant  object,  like  a 
sorrowful  one,  completely  and  quickly  fills  their  souls  and  shapes  their  heart's 
emotions. 

When  I  am  about  to  perform  music,  I  endeavor  to  concentrate  my  whole 
self  upon  what  I  am  to  play.  If  I  am  to  perform  a  funeral  march,  I  first  strive 
to  enter  the  house  of  mourning.  There  I  see  the  dead  one  lying  in  his  coffin,  I 
see  the  floral  offerings,  and  methinks  I  can  smell  the  very  tuberoses.  I  see  be- 
fore me  the  family  of  the  deceased,  with  pain  and  sorrow  depicted  upon  their 
faces,  yes,  I  hear  from  time  to  time  the  moans  and  sobs  which  irresistibly  escape 
their  lips,  breaking  the  monotonous  and  painful  silence  that  pervades  the  death 
chamber.  I  hear  the  word  of  God  read,  I  listen  to  the  hymn  of  consolation,  I 
see  them  close  the  coffin  after  the  family  have  taken  the  last,  sad  glance,  I  see 
them  carry  the  body  out,  I  hear  the  creak  of  the  hearse  door,  and  a  cold  chill  runs 
over  me,  as,  in  my  imagination,  I  hear  that  terrible  noise  produced  by  placing  the 
coffin  within.  I  see  the  people  standing  on  the  pavement  looking  at  each  other 
with  sorrowing  faces,  I  hear  the  bells  toll,  I  see  the  procession  start,  and  thus  I 
prepare  myself  to  play  a  funeral  march.  When  I  hear  that  tender  Aria  from  the 
Messiah,  "He  was  despised  and  rejected,"  I  see  my  Saviour's  suffering  face  as 
he  stands  before  Pilate,  or  as  he  is  spat  upon,  mocked  and  struck  by  the  rude 
hands  of  the  soldiers.  I  see  his  forehead  bleeding  from  the  thorny  crown,  matting 
his  hair,  and  staining  his  lovely  face.  A  voice  says  "Ecce  homo."  The  master's 
loving  eyes  look  at  me,  and  when  I  play  the  accompaniment,  where  the  instru- 
ment moans  and  sobs,  as  it  were,  I  often  shed  tears  at  the  sorrowful  sight  before 
me.  Then,  when  the  song  is  ended,  I  feel  a  sense  of  contrition  and  sorrow,  I 
hardly  dare  to  speak  aloud,  I  see  my  own  waywardness  that  has  brought  all  this 
suffering  of  sorrow  and  grief  on  this  man.  Oh !  what  a  power  is  there  in  such 
a  song,  how  it  lifts  us  up  and  brings  us  nearer  to  God.  Handel  said,  that  when 
he  wrote  the  Hallelujah  chorus,  he  thought  he  saw  the  heavens  open  and  the 
angels  singing  around  the  throne.  So  when  I  hear  this  strain,  I  stand  on  Cal- 
vary and  I  look  up  at  the  cross,  and  confess  my  own  guilt,  my  lack  of  love. 


180  MUSIC  AND   CULTURE. 

When  I  hear  a  strain  from  the  immortal  Beethoven,  I  wander  to  that  master's 
home,  I  see  him  dejected  and  suffering,  I  hear  him  complain  of  the  hardness  of 
this  world,  I  hear  him  bemoan  his  deafness,  I  see  him  as  a  caged  lion  shut  out 
from  the  world,  and  sadly  I  sit  down  by  his  side,  and  with  awe  and  fear  I  listen 
to  what  he  has  to  tell  me.  When  I  hear  some  of  his  strains  I  imagine  him  to  be 
a  Jupiter ;  then  again  his  strains  impress  me  as  would  the  appearance  of  the 
ghost  in  Hamlet.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  my  imagination  is  never  idle,  when  play- 
ing this  master's  wonderful  strains. 

But  listen  to  plain,  simple  "  Home,  Sweet  Home. "  How  natural  it  is  for  the 
mind  to  turn  to  the  one  spot  dear  to  the  heart.  Oh  !  yes,  I  see  the  old  home- 
stead with  the  memorable  apple  tree  before  it ;  I  see  the  flower-garden,  so  tenderly 
cared  for  by  my  father.  I  see  the  old  rooms,  with  their  quaint  finish.  Yonder  sits 
father,  while  in  the  huge  arm-chair  rests  dear,  good  mother,  the  crucifix  by  her 
side  and  the  prayer  book  in  hand.  Alas,  neither  are  living,  neither  of  them  shall 
I  ever  see  again  here  on  earth.  And  so  I  turn  away  from  the  spot  linked  only  to 
memory,  and  come  to  my  new  home  in  free  America,  where  all  the  home  ties 
that  bind  men,  bind  me.  Then  I  often  think  of  those  whose  homes  have  been 
destroyed,  of  those  that  have  no  homes,  of  the  outcasts,  of  the  poor  orphans,  and 
my  heart  rises  in  gratitude  because  1  am  so  richly  blessed.  And  while  thus  my  im- 
agination is  active,  I  also  think  of  the  truth,  that  our  real  home  is  in  heaven  above. 

There  is  an  air  by  Mozart,  called  "Non  piu  andrai."  It  occurs  in  the  opera 
Figaro,  in  which  a  girlish-looking  page,  Cherubino,  is  caught  in  his  tricks  and 
wiles.  He  had  been  guilty  of  flirting  with  the  ladies  of  the  court,  yes,  even  with 
the  countess  herself.  At  last  he  is  discovered  in  the  act,  and  his  master  takes 
him  to  account. 

The  page  is  a  delicate  boy  of  sixteen,  with  golden  hair,  and  is  clothed  in  silks 
and  satins.  The  Count  is  a  burly  fellow  and  wears  big  boots  and  spurs,  a  sword, 
a  big  slouch  hat,  he  has  a  long  grizzly  beard,  a  terrible  voice  and  an  awful  look. 
He  takes  the  boy  to  task,  gives  him  a  round  scolding,  tells  him  he  has  long  enough 
turned  the  house  upside  down,  has  lived  long  enough  in  clover,  that  now  he  has 
to  put  on  a  military  hat,  wear  a  mustache,  learn  to  smoke  tobacco,  go  to  war  where 
cannons  are  fired  and  men  are  killed.  All  the  while  he  shakes  his  finger  at  the  page, 
who  stands  before  him  in  great  penitence,  but  as  every  now  and  then  the  Count  steps 
forward  in  his  excitement,  as  a  soldier  naturally  would,  the  page  becomes  alarmed 
and  steps  back,  and  thus  they  are  measuring  the  whole  stage.  The  Count  becomes 
at  times  sarcastic,  talking  about  the  sweet  ringlets,  and  the  fine  sight  Cherubino 
will  cut  when  once  in  the  army,  but  throughout  the  piece  a  commanding  military 
tone  is  heard ;  here  and  there  the  effect  is  heightened  by  the  sound  of  the  bugle, 
while  the  whole  has  the  character  of  a  military  march.  All  these  scenes  I  see 
while  listening  to  "None  piu  Adrai,"  and  while  hearing  it  I  imagine  myself 
sometimes  to  be  the  Count,  sometimes  I  am  poor  Cherubino,  and  sometimes  I 
am  a  spectator,  and  as  I  see  the  young  scamp  at  last  caught  and  frightened  almost 
to  death,  I  cannot  help  laughing  at  the  ludicrous  sight,  and  often  do  so  while 
playing  the  accompaniment.  At  first  reading  the  words  of  this  song,  they  appear 
as  nonsense,  but  when  the  whole  picture  is  put  together  it  is  comical.  Said  a 
lady  to  me,  "Why  do  you  always  smile  when  I  sing  this  song?  "  "  Oh,"  said  I, 
"  I  laughed  at  what  I  saw,  I  laughed  at  poor  Cherubino  in  his  plight." 


THE  IMAGINATION.  181 

But  let  us  turn  from  the  opera  and  listen  to  America's  sweetest  song,  "The 
Old  Folks  at  Home. ' '  Though  a  negro  song,  it  is  worthy  of  a  place  in  the  port- 
folio of  the  best  artist.  I  have  seen  slavery  in  its  palmiest  days,  just  before  the 
war.  I  have  lived  in  good  old  Virginia,  where  I  saw  some  of  the  woes  of  the 
colored  people,  and  when  I  used  to  sit  upon  the  veranda  of  my  southern  home 
on  a  cool  evening,  and  listened  to  the  colored  men  singing  "  Hard  Times  Come 
Again  no  More,"  or  "Old  Kentucky  Home,"  or  "Old  Folks  at  Home,"  I 
sighed  and  said,  "0  (rod,  how  long  will  all  this  last?  "  I  have  lived  and  moved 
among  colored  people,  I  know  them  and  their  sufferings,  and  I  can  understand 
them  when  they  sing  : — 

"  Way  down  the  Swannee  river, 

Far,  far  away, 

Dere  is  where  my  heart  is  turning, 
Dere's  wha'  the  old  folks  stay. 
All  up  and  down  the  creation, 

Sadly  I  roam, 

Still  longing  for  the  old  plantation 
And  the  old  folks  at  home. 
All  de  world  am  sad  an  dreary, 

Ebrywhere  I  roam, 

Oh,  darkies,  how  my  heart  grows  weary, 
Far  from  the  old  folks  at  home. 

"  All  around  the  farm  I've  wandered 

When  I  was  young, 
Then  many  happy  days  I  squandered, 

Many  a  song  I  sung. 
When  I  was  playing  with  my  brother, 

Happy  was  I ; 

Oh,  take  me  to  my  kind  old  mother, 
Dere  let  me  live  and  die. 
Refrain. 

"  One  little  hut  among  the  bushes, 

One  that  I  love, 
Still  sadly  to  my  mem'ry  rushes, 

No  matter  where  I  rove. 
When  will  I  see  the  bees  a-humming, 

All  around  the  comb, 
When  will  I  hear  the  banjo  strumming, 
Down  in  my  good  old  home. 
All  de  world  am  sad  an  dreary, 

Ebrywhere  I  roam, 

Oh,  darkies,  how  my  heart  grows  weary, 
Far  from  the  old  folks  at  home." 

Plain  though  this  song  may  be,  it  is  full  of  tenderness ;  it  displays  Stephen 
Foster's  loving  heart  and  his  vivid  imagination.     Southern  planters  claimed  that 


182  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

this  song  was  not  second  to  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin"  in  behalf  of  emancipation. 
Everybody  in  this  broad  land  knew,  and  knows  now,  Foster's  immortal  melody, 
which  is  more  than  can  be  said  of  Mrs.  Beecher  Stowe's  novel,  great  as  its  circu- 
lation was.  This  song  always  touched  me  deeply ;  it  called  forth  my  sympathies 
for  the  poor  slaves,  and  it  finally  led  me  to  go  to  old  Virginia,  to  see  and  to  study 
the  institution  for  myself.  Imagine,  then,  a  quiet  summer  evening  in  Virginia ; 
let  us  seat  ourselves  on  the  spacious  veranda  of  a  planter's  mansion.  Listen! 
from  afar  you  hear  the  sweet  melody  appealing  to  your  sympathy. 

Among  Mendelssohn's  beautiful  songs  without  words,  there  are  several  called 
Venetian  Gondola  Songs.  Let  us  listen  to  one  of  these ;  but  we  must  take  a  trip 
to  sunny  Italy.  Let  us  go  to  Venice,  with  her  palaces,  her  great  churches,  her 
watery  streets,  on  which  the  gondolas  or  boats  glide  silently,  carrying  their 
living  freight  They  are  long  black  boats,  unsightly,  but  for  all  comfortable. 
The  men  who  row  them  belong  to  an  uneducated  class,  but,  despite  this  fact, 
they,  like  all  their  countrymen,  are  singers,  and  often  players  of  the  man- 
dolin and  other  instruments.  Mendelssohn,  who  traveled  in  Italy,  was  no 
doubt  impressed  with  the  beauty  of  Venice,  and  in  his  fancy  he  produced 
these  charming  tone  poems  alluded  to,  calling  them  Gondola  Songs.  Thus, 
when  I  play  one  of  them  my  mind  goes  to  sunny  Italy,  and  in  my  imagination 
I  see  Venice,  with  her  streets  of  water  and  her  beautiful  blue  sky.  I  hear 
the  music  of  the  boatmen,  and  whether  my  fancy-picture  is  correct  or  not  it 
serves  my  purpose,  it  enables  me  to  play  and  to  enjoy  the  little  tone  poems  to 
a  higher  degree.  Listen  to  it,  hear  its  passionate  yet  tender  melody,  and  notice 
how,  as  the  boat  has  passed  away  in  the  distance  and  the  song  is  no  longer  heard, 
there  is  a  spell  left  behind  that  holds  you  as  in  a  dream  ;  and  after  the  little  strain 
is  ended,  I  sometimes  sit  spellbound  and  listen,  as  if  I  could  still  hear  the  gentle 
strain  that  has  vanished  so  softly. 

I  have  a  little  slumber  song  which  I  love  dearly.  Before  I'play  it  I  often  go  to 
a  quiet  country  home.  There,  on  the  rustic  old  porch,  the  mother  has  seated 
herself  with  her  needlework  ;  by  her  side  stands  a  cradle,  wherein  lies  her  little 
treasure,  about  to  take  its  afternoon  nap.  Oh,  I  can  fairly  feel  the  stillness  of 
the  day ;  I  see  the  glorious  sunlight  as  it  falls  on  the  thick  vines  that  surround 
the  porch,  letting  in  enough  light  to  throw  the  strangest  and  the  most  artistic 
forms  of  shadow  upon  the  floor  and  wall.  I  hear  the  hum  of  the  insects,  I  hear 
the  distant  voice  of  the  ploughman,  I  hear  the  tinkle  of  the  cow  bell,  and  while 
the  mother  rocks  the  cradle  she  sings  this  sweet  little  air,  called  the  slumber 
song.  Listen  to  the  accompaniment  with  its  rocking,  and  then  hear  the  sweet 
melody  as  it  finally  dies  away,  when  the  baby  is  asleep. 

Only  one  more  fancy  picture  I  will  bring  before  you  and  I  shall  pass  on  with 
my  subject.  Annie  Laurie  !  What  a  charm  there  is  connected  with  this  tender 
love  song.  It  may  justly  be  called  the  world's  love  song,  and,  with  his  usual 
correct  perceptions,  Bayard  Taylor,  when  speaking  of  the  camp  before  Sebastopol, 
said, — 

"  They  sang  of  love  and  not  of  fame  ; 

Forgot  was  Britain's  glory  ; 
Each  heart  recalled  a  different  name, 
But  all  sang  Annie  Laurie." 


THE  IMAGINATION.  183 

When  I  hear  this  song  I  wander  to  the  bonnie  banks  of  Maxwelton,  and  there 
among  the  green  grasses  studded  with  the  Scotch  heather  and  the  thistle,  I  see 
Douglas  of  Finnland,  Annie  Laurie's  lover,  wandering  along  casting  shy  glances 
at  the  windows  of  Annie's  castle  home.  Alas,  he  never  was  permitted  to  lead 
to  the  altar  the  girl,  whom  he  called  the  fairest  that  ever  the  sun  shone  on. 
She  was  given  to  another,  and  there  is  nothing  left  of  their  love  here  on  earth 
except  this  song.  Two  hundred  years  have  passed  ;  thousands  have  died  around 
the  banks  of  Maxwelton ;  many  monuments  and  graves  have  been  obliterated, 
but  Annie  Laurie  and  Douglas  of  Finnland  are  still  remembered,  and  their  true 
love  will  reecho  in  human  hearts  as  long  as  the  fires  of  love's  passion  burn. 

From  the  foregoing  you  see  that  the  true  musician,  when  singing  or  playing, 
is  out  of  the  body  ;  he  roams  in  a  land  of  fancy.  This  explains  why  musicians 
do  not  like  to  be  disturbed  by  talking  or  walking  while  performing  music,  for  not 
only  does  it  indicate  a  lack  of  attention,  but  it  destroys  the  spell.  This  also 
explains  why,  under  certain  circumstances,  musicians  are  justified  in  refusing  to 
play.  Who  would  wish  to  perform  any  of  the  pieces  given  you  before  a  talka- 
tive, noisy  company  ?  Having  been  at  a  funeral,  having  been  with  Beethoven, 
having  seen  the  Saviour  in  his  suffering,  having  tasted  Mozart  and  listened  to 
Mendelssohn,  how  could  I  now  play  a  waltz,  or  how  could  I  play  any  trifling 
composition?  On  the  other  hand,  if  I  am  in  merry  company,  how  could  I 
attempt  to  play  a  dirge  or  a  funeral  march?  Artists  prefer  to  play  before 
musicians,  for  there  generally  is  sympathy  and  mutual  appreciation,  while  it  is 
often  difficult  to  produce  the  same  effect  among  the  masses. 

From  the  foregoing,  you  can  also  see  the  good  that  flows  from  pure  music,  if 
you  will  but  rightly  use  that  which  is  good.  Oh,  how  often  have  I  talked  of 
these  things,  and  how  slow  is  the  process  of  making  lasting  impressions,  how 
slow  is  the  work  of  awakening  the  imagination. 

Let  me  beg  you  not  to  use  poor  music,  not  to  abuse  that  which  is  good.  Do 
not  lower  the  art  to  the  position  of  a  mere  plaything,  to  mere  show-work.  Seek 
the  truth  always  and  when  you  have  found  it,  then  prize  it  as  a  rich  jewel.  I 
would  not  have  you  understand  that  I  have  always  such  positive  pictures  before 
me  as  I  have  described  ;  often  we  must  be  content  with  the  awakening  of  pure 
sentiment,  but  pure  sentiment  in  the  course  of  time  also  leads  to  pure  thoughts. 
The  imagination  of  many  pupils  is  too  inactive,  their  emotions  are  too  slow,  they 
hear  merely  pretty  sounds  of  music,  they  live  yet  in  the  state  of  infancy  in  art- 
life;  had  they  the  technique  of  a  Liszt,  they  would  produce  merely  sounds.  But 
if  the  imagination  is  active,  if  sentiment  is  readily  aroused,  then  simple  music 
is  just  as  much  art  music  as  the  more  difficult.  Says  Schumann,  "  If  you  listen 
at  the  doors  of  musicians,  you  may  hear  plain  things  well  played. "  The  average 
pupil,  however,  always  aims  at  show  first  and  at  sentiment  next.  Let  me  ask 
you  to  reverse  the  order.  Play  a  little  thing  well  and  you  do  more  than  by  play- 
ing a  most  brilliant  piece  without  sentiment 

And  now  by  way  of  a  close  let  me  refer  to  a  hymn  tune  written  by  Martin 
Luther.  It  always  overpowers  me,  and  I  never  play  it  without  being  deeply  im- 
pressed. In  my  mind  I  turn  to  the  reformer  ;  I  see  him  in  distress  ;  there  are 
many  who  assail  him,  many  who  endeavor  to  undermine  his  work.  He  feels  the 
terrible  responsibility  that  is  resting  upon  him,  he  feels  his  own  weakness,  he 


184  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

falls  on  his  knees,  in  humility  he  prays  to  God  for  help.  He  pours  out  his  in- 
most thoughts,  he  draws  very  near  to  his  God,  and  with  sobs  and  cries  he  says, 
"Save,  Lord,  bless  and  aid  us,  oh  Lord,  else  all  must  go  to  ruin."  All  this  I 
hear  in  this  hymn  tune,  and  the  simple  playing  of  it  is  to  my  heart  a  prayer,  an 
act  of  worship.  And  thus  you  see  how  through  music,  even  without  words,  we 
may  sincerely  pray. 

By  coming  in  contact  with  good  music  we  are  always  elevated  and  refined,  our 
imaginations  are  quickened,  they  are  turned  toward  noble  objects,  our  emotions 
are  purified,  love  and  sympathy  are  aroused ;  and  let  us  not  be  unmindful  of  the 
fact  that  love  and  sympathy  are  virtues  which  religion  teaches.  To  raise  you  to 
a  higher  sphere  in  art  should  be  the  object  of  a  musical  education  ;  the  power  to 
play  and  sing  are  merely  the  means,  and  should  never  be  regarded  as  the  end. 

Bear  in  mind  that  if  you  neglect  the  cultivation  of  the  imagination,  you  neglect  one 
of  the  very  first  elements  necessary  for  the  artist.  Musicians  should  cultivate  this 
faculty ;  they  should  not  only  study  the  music,  but  they  should  also  learn  to  know 
its  place  in  history ;  they  should  study  the  lives  of  the  composers,  all  of  which  is 
calculated  to  give  them  keys  to  its  fuller  meaning ;  all  this  will  enable  the  student 
to  better  understand  an  art-work.  He  who  merely  plays  the  tones  of  a  sonata  by 
Beethoven,  he  who  fails  to  reproduce  the  inner  meaning,  fails  in  everything  ;  his 
performance  is  as  powerless  and  as  meaningless  as  are  the  oft  repeated  prayers  of 
mere  religious  formalists.  Of  course  the  imagination  requires  much  culture  and 
much  care.  It  needs  training  from  earliest  childhood.  Children  have  imagina- 
tions. The  boy  rides  in  cars  made  of  chairs,  or  he  builds  houses  with  blocks,  etc. 
The  little  girl  plays  with  her  dolls  as  if  they  were  living  children.  A  child's 
pleasures  are  largely  dependent  upon  its  imagination,  and  the  same  is  true  of 
grown  people.  Said  an  educator,  "When  a  little  child  is  asked  in  a  school  how 
many  pints  make  a  quart,  it  is  often  difficult  for  it  to  give  quickly  a  correct  answer. 
But  let  that  little  child  in  its  imagination  go  with  its  pail  to  the  store  or  the  milk- 
wagon,  and  it  instantly  knows  that  two  pints  make  a  quart."  It  would  seem  that 
a  power  like  this  would  receive  the  attention  of  educators ;  alas  !  many  parents 
and  teachers  fail  to  comprehend  the  significance  of  this  gift.  They  view  it  usually 
as  a  dangerous  faculty,  and  no  doubt  such  it  can  become  by  neglect  or  by  false 
training.  Our  public  schools  aim  too  much  at  the  cultivation  of  the  reasoning 
powers  and  the  development  of  memory,  neglecting  the  imagination.  Children 
are  constantly  called  upon  to  imagine  this  or  that,  yet  nothing  is  done  to  develop 
this  faculty.  There  is  no  study  in  which  it  does  not  come  into  use.  In  professional 
life,  others  besides  the  artist  need  this  power  in  order  to  be  successful.  The  lawyer 
needs  it,  the  editor  needs  it,  and  that  minister  of  the  gospel  who  can  see  the  very 
heavens  open  before  him,  the  minister  who  can  soar  to  heights  above,  he  is,  all 
things  being  equal,  also  the  most  effective  preacher.  Yet  it  is  only  lately  that  the 
imagination  receives  any  attention  in  our  public  schools.  Many  teachers,  as  well 
as  parents,  strive  to  exclude  everything  calculated  to  arouse  this  faculty  ;  they 
strive  to  turn  the  child's  mind  too  exclusively  to  practical  things.  This  no  doubt 
is  the  tendency  of  our  age,  and  hence  that  of  education. 

The  imagination  is  most  active  in  youth  ;  when  riper  years  come,  reason  assumes 
control  and  men  become  critics,  and  cease  to  be  poets.  Still  there  are  many 
instances  on  record  showing  that  the  imagination  need  not  necessarily  weaken 


THE  IMAGINATION.  185 

with  years.  Xenophon  wrote  when  92  years  of  age.  jEschylus  wrote  his  best 
works  in  his  66th  year.  Sophocles  wrote  his  (Edipus  when  99  years  of  age. 
Michael  Angelo  painted  his  celebrated  picture,  "The  Judgment,"  which 
displays  the  most  wonderful  flight  of  imagination,  between  his  60th  and  70th 
year.  So  there  are  musicians  who  wrote  their  best  works  in  advanced  life.  The 
imagination  of  these  great  men  worked  quickly,  hence  they  were  able  to  produce 
great  works,  and  these  are  distinguished  for  their  roundness  and  completeness, 
while  slow  working  imaginations  often  produce  mere  patchwork.  No  faculty  of 
the  mind  is  more  liable  to  go  astray,  and  produce  misery,  than  the  imagination. 
It  needs  careful  training,  lest  it  descend  into  the  fanciful  and  the  incongruous. 
Of  people  who  are  afflicted  in  this  manner  we  say  that  the  wings  of  their  imagina- 
tion are  too  large  for  the  tails  of  their  judgment.  They  are  people  who  imagine 
themselves  sick  or  socially  slighted  on  every  occasion ;  people  who  imagine  their 
enemies  to  be  constantly  endeavoring  to  do  them  harm.  Of  course  they  are 
miserable,  and  their  sickly  imagination  is  the  cause  of  it.  They  constantly  expect 
misery  and  want,  and  being  in  a  state  of  torment,  they  make  others  miserable. 
Then  there  are  those  whose  musical  imagination  is  so  vivid  that  they  almost  hear 
the  grass  grow  while  listening  to  Haydn's  Creation.  A  certain  musically  inclined 
lady,  living  in  London,  went  to  one  of  Paganini's  rehearsals,  preceding  a  concert. 
Having  failed  to  bring  his  instrument  along,  he  borrowed  one  from  a  member  of 
the  orchestra,  and,  instead  of  playing,  made  merely  a  sort  of  a  pizzicato,  indi- 
cating the  time  in  which  he  would  play  the  piece.  After  the  rehearsal  this  lady 
addressed  Mr.  Cook,  the  leader  of  the  orchestra,  saying,  "Oh  dear,  Mr.  Cook, 
what  a  wonderful  man  this  Paganini  is ;  I  declare,  that  until  this  morning  I  abso- 
lutely knew  nothing  about  music,  I  never  knew  what  it  is  capable  of. "  "  Indeed, 
said  Mr.  Cook,  "  music  is  a  great  art,  but  allow  me  to  say,  that  you  are  indebted 
to  your  imagination  for  this  pleasure." 

"How  is  this  Mr.  Cook?" 

"Why,  Paganini  did  not  play  at  all,  he  did  not  even  touch  a  bow." 

"Extraordinary,"  replied  she,  "  I  am  more  than  ever  confirmed  in  my  opinion 
of  him,  for  if  without  playing  he  can  affect  people  in  this  manner,  how  much 
more  wonderful  must  be  the  sensation  when  he  does  play. 

A  certain  great  musician  once  was  discussing  musical  subjects  with  Frederick 
the  Great,  and  in  the  course  of  conversation  they  came  to  talk  of  the  powers  of 
the  imagination.  The  musician  boasted  of  his  powers  in  that  direction,  saying, 
that  he  could  imagine  anything.  In  the  meantime  luncheon  was  served  and 
Frederick,  who  was  a  little  irritated  because  this  mortal  of  a  musician  claimed  to 
possess  powers  which  his  royal  highness  had  not,  turned  to  the  musician,  who 
looked  with  hungry  eyes  at  the  good  things  before  him,  and  said,  "  Since  you  can 
do  anything  with  your  imagination,  just  imagine  you  have  eaten  a  good  meal." 
Nothing  daunted,  the  musician  kept  on  chatting  cheerfully,  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  Taking  pity  on  him,  the  king  at  last  offered  him  some  wine  and  con- 
fectionery, but  the  musician  said  sarcastically,  "  No,  I  thank  your  royal  highness, 
I  have  partaken  in  my  imagination  of  all  the  good  things  on  the  table,  and  dare 
eat  no  more,  for  fear  of  injuring  my  digestive  organs."  Perfectly  surprised,  the 
king  said,  ' '  since  you  have  such  extraordinary  powers  of  imagination,  since  you  can 
do  anything  with  it,  allow  me  to  suggest,  that  you  mend  your  stockings  with 


186  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

your  imagination,  for  there  are  two  big  holes  above  your  shoes."  And  with  this 
he  dismissed  him.  But  I  have  said  enough  and  will  close  by  giving  you  a  quota- 
tion from  an  educational  journal,  showing  that  this  subject  is  attracting  attention. 
'  'Great  advantages, ' '  said  the  writer, '  'arise  from  cultivating  the  imagination.  How 
shall  we  reach  the  people  to  benefit  them  if  they  have  no  imaginative  culture  ? 
They  are  like  oxen,  they  know  only  of  food,  of  shelter,  of  warmth,  they  are  out 
of  our  reach.  The  imagination  furnishes  us  much  of  the  happiness  we  enjoy;  by 
cultivating  it,  we  open  new  sources  of  pleasure  and  delight  to  mankind. ' ' 


EXPRESSION 


The  external  exhibition  of  our  thoughts  and  emotions  is  termed  expression. 
This  exhibition  may  be  accomplished  in  many  ways,  for  instance,  by  words, 
looks,  the  voice,  colors,  musical  sounds,  etc.  It  is  but  natural  that  the  thoughts 
we  entertain,  the  sentiments  we  cherish,  should  eventually  make  an  impression 
upon  our  faces.  Hence  we  speak  of  the  expression  of  the  face,  the  expres- 
sion of  the  eye ;  we  say  that  the  face  of  this  person  has  a  good  expression,  while 
that  of  another  we  abhor  because  it  is  bad.  The  Germans  say  that  in  the  eye 
lies  the  heart,  and  for  this  reason  we  look  into  the  faces,  and  especially  into 
the  eyes,  of  strangers,  expecting  there  to  find  an  exhibition  of  their  characters. 
Shallow  people  look  at  the  clothing  or  at  mere  outward  beauty  as  an  indication 
of  character,  and  so  shallow-minded  people  seek  to  establish  character  by  means 
of  outward  appearances.  It  is  to  me  one  of  the  most  interesting  studies,  as  I 
pass  along  the  streets,  to  analyze  men's  characters  by  looking  at  their  faces,  and 
while  I  realize  the  obligations  of  love  toward  all  men,  it  is  sometimes  difficult  for 
me  to  regard  certain  persons  as  human  beings ;  their  faces  and  manners  are  so 
repulsive  and  animal-like.  A  motionless  face  we  fear,  because  it  fails  to  give  us 
a  key  to  the  character.  Children  are  quick  readers  of  faces,  hence  they  turn 
with  fear  from  those  whose  features  are  unsympathetic  and  stereotyped.  Look 
at  a  child  with  a  motionless  face  and  it  will  turn  from  you,  yes,  it  will  show  signs 
of  fear  and  distrust,  and  if  the  little  one  is  not  taken  away  it  will  soon  express  its 
fear  in  cries.  It  is  the  expression  of  the  face  that  draws  or  repels  children.  If, 
then,  a  person's  character  makes  an  indelible  impression  upon  his  face,  it 
stands  to  reason,  the  nobler  a  man's  thoughts,  and  the  purer  his  emotions,  the 
better  is  his  expression.  There  are  faces  out  of  which  looks  but  goodness ;  one 
can  almost  imagine  them  to  be  surrounded  by  a  halo  of  purity  and  gentleness. 
Others  portray  nothing  but  villainy,  cunning,  deceit,  or  vanity,  or  at  best  but 
ignorance  and  rudeness.  As  our  faces  are  an  exhibition  of  our  thoughts  and 
sentiments,  so  life  itself  is  but  an  expression  of  our  wills  and  actions. 

But  I  mean,  to  speak  of  expression  in  art,  and  more  especially  in  music.  Every 
art  expression  presupposes  an  art  impression.  Without  pure  art  impressions, 
lofty  and  noble  art  expression  is  not  possible.  A  genuine  art  expression  is  almost 
sure  of  making  an  art  impression  upon  intelligent  minds,  no  matter  how  feeble 
this  impression  may  be.  While,  however,  most  people  may  be  impressed  through 
the  arts,  the  power  of  producing  such  impressions  is  by  no  means  very  general 
even  among  intelligent  people.  All  art  must  be  measured  by  the  amount  of 
thought  and  sentiment  it  expresses ;  where  these  are  lacking,  art  does  not  exist. 
Hence  many  play  and  sing  brilliantly,  yet  they  are  not  artists ;  their  productions 
are  not  art  works.  The  artist's  inner  nature  must  reveal  itself  in  his  art  work, 
if  it  is  expected  to  influence  the  souls  of  others.  Mere  brilliancy  of  tone  and 

187 


188  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

swiftness  of  execution,  mere  mixing  of  colors,  mere  jingling  rhymes  will  not  pro- 
duce such  results.  The  power  to  play  and  to  sing  with  expression  is  therefore 
the  ultimatum  of  every  musician's  work  and  education,  and,  so  far  as  expression 
is  concerned,  all  should  be  artists.  An  ounce  of  genuine  art  expression  is  worth 
more  than  a  pound  of  technical  skill  or  cold  theoretical  knowledge,  simply  because 
it  speaks  to  men's  souls,  because  it  elevates  them  and  affords  pure  and  unalloyed 
pleasure.  A  player  or  singer  whose  powers  of  expression  have  not  been  devel- 
oped, cultivated  and  refined,  deserves  not  the  name  of  musician. 

If  expression  means  an  external  exhibition  of  our  thoughts  and  emotions,  it 
stands  to  reason  that,  technical  skill  being  equal,  he  who  stands  high  in  the  scale 
of  morality  and  intelligence,  must  surpass  him  who  stands  low  in  these  respects. 
Good  playing  and  singing,  therefore,  depend  not  only  upon  a  musician's  tech- 
nique, but  upon  his  intellectual  and  moral  nature.  Marx  said  that  the  practical 
musician  is  a  seer,  an  interpreter  of  dreams.  Schumann  said  that  genius  is  only 
understood  by  genius,  and  Hoffmann  expresses  the  same  idea  in  these  words, 
"  the  poet  only  understands  the  poet."  Great  men's  ideas  lie,  not  near  the  sur- 
face, like  pebbles  in  a  shallow  stream,  but  they  lie  deep  down,  as  the  pearls  at  the 
bottom  of  the  ocean.  To  reach  these  should  be  the  student's  object,  and  if  he 
has  found  but  one  such  pearl,  he  has  done  more  for  himself  and  his  hearers  than 
he  who  has  sacks  full  of  pebbles.  The  stock  of  pieces  one  finds  in  pupils'  port- 
folios are  like  these  pebbles,  while  one  good  piece  is  as  a  precious  stone,  more 
valuable  than  cart-loads  of  the  other. 

The  power  to  receive  art  impressions,  and  to  give  expression  to  one's  thoughts 
and  sentiments  through  the  medium  of  art,  is  not  alike  strong  in  all.  That  Ger- 
man philosopher  was  correct  when  he  compared  men's  powers  of  musical  percep- 
tion to  sounding  lines,  such  as  men  use  to  measure  the  depth  of  rivers  and  seas. 
Some  are  exceedingly  short,  while  others  reach  fathoms  into  the  deep  sea  of  art, 
yet  there  is  no  one  that  has  reached  the  bottom  of  art.  Many  good  people  are 
capable  of  receiving  art  impressions,  but  it  is  exceedingly  difficult  for  them  to 
reproduce  these  impressions.  Others  lack  culture,  and  it  is  about  as  unreasonable 
to  expect  them  to  be  interested  in  art,  and  to  be  impressed  with  art  ideas,  as  it 
is  to  expect  the  hard  and  uncultivated  ground  to  produce  lovely  flowers ;  educa- 
tion is  needed.  Despite  the  fact  that  some  persons  know  nothing  about  musical 
expression,  they  are  often  the  loudest  in  their  criticisms,  and  as  a  legitimate 
result,  they  indulge  in  a  great  deal  of  meaningless  talk  about  correct  expression. 
There  are  many  critics  who  write  for  papers,  musical  and  others,  who  readily 
detect  a  mistake  made  by  the  pianist  or  singer,  but  who  fail  to  notice  the  grossest 
violations  of  the  laws  of  correct  expression. 

Every  composer  aims  to  express  his  ideas  and  emotions  in  his  art-work.  The 
practical  musician  is  expected  to  reproduce  these,  so  that  the  audience  may 
behold  the  beauty  of  the  art- work.  The  player  or  singer  is  therefore  the  medium 
between  the  composer  and  the  audience,  and  as  such  he  must  be  conscientious 
toward  both  ;  by  so  doing  he  will  necessarily  be  conscientious  in  the  discharge  of 
his  own  duty.  Every  player  or  singer  should  have  a  good  technique,  at  any  rate 
sufficient  of  it  to  overcome  all  the  difficulties  a  piece  of  music  presents.  Next,  he 
should  be  endowed  with  pure  sentiment,  in  order  that  he  may  feel  with  the  com- 
poser ;  and  finally  he  should  have  a  sound  understanding  of  the  best  means  to 


EXPRESSION.  .  189 

reproduce  the  composer's  sentiments  and  thoughts.  In  the  performance  of  a 
composition,  the  musician  may  merely  reproduce  the  composer's  ideas  and  feel- 
ings, or  he  may  go  a  step  further  and  put  upon  it  the  stamp  of  his  own  individu- 
ality, without,  however,  destroying  the  identity  of  the  art- work  itself.  To  do  this 
effectively  requires  great  skill  and  much  native  talent.  The  mere  reproducer,  say 
some,  stands  beneath  the  composer,  while  the  artist  who  reveals  himself  in  his 
performance  stands  by  the  side  of  the  composer. 

In  the  opinion  of  some,  expression  is  possible  only  in  large  and  showy  compo- 
sitions. This  is  a  wrong  idea.  Expression  is  possible  in  the  smaller  forms  as 
well  as  in  the  larger.  There  is  power  in  the  simplest  thought,  if  it  be  good,  just 
as  the  native  lustre  of  a  jewel  is  perceptible  in  the  smallest  fragment,  just  as 
magnetism  is  active  in  the  smallest  piece  of  iron. 

Accept  it  as  a  truism,  that  you  can  never  play  with  expression  until  you  have 
overcome  all  the  technical  difficulties  of  a  composition.  You  must  be  relieved  of 
the  thraldom  of  reading  notes  and  watching  expression  marks,  ere  you  will  be 
free  to  yield  to  the  spirit.  Pupils  should,  therefore,  not  lay  aside  their  old  pieces 
as  soon  as  they  have  learned  to  play  the  notes,  for  after  this  task  has  been  accom- 
plished there  comes  the  second  and  greater  task,  that  of  catching  and  expressing 
the  spirit.  So  in  reality  the  student  must  study  his  pieces  twice,  and  let  me  say 
that  the  second  study  is  far  more  difficult  and  requires  greater  time  than  the 
first.  Many  teachers,  and  as  a  rule,  most  pupils,  are  contented  with  a  mere  cor- 
rect performance,  as  judged  from  a  technical  standpoint ;  they  neglect  to  aspire 
to  a  higher  degree  of  artistic  perfection — namely,  that  of  playing  with  correct 
expression.  Schumann  said,  that  "  Where  the  form  is  clear  there  the  spirit  also 
becomes  clear,"  and  Goethe  puts  the  whole  matter  into  a  nutshell  when  he  says  : 
"Only  what  one  understands,  that  one  hears,  and  only  what  we  understand  that 
can  we  play  readily. ' ' 

PHRASES  AND  PERIODS. 

Many  musicians  go  to  excess  in  their  attempts  at  playing  with  expression. 
They  disfigure  any  art- work,  and,  so  to  speak,  turn  the  face  of  a  saint  into  that  of 
a  clown.  In  the  playing  of  such  persons,  one  notices  an  undue  swaying  to  and  fro 
in  the  tempo ;  they  use  an  excess  of  force,  and  go  so  abruptly  from  the  piano  to 
the  forte  that  one's  feelings  are  wounded.  Of  course,  the  true  character  of  a 
composition  is  utterly  ruined  by  such  players.  They  use  the  pedal  improperly  ; 
they  phrase  incorrectly  or  not  at  all ;  they  fail  to  pronounce  the  melody  well ;  in 
fact,  their  playing  must  be  compared  to  an  unintelligible  scrawl.  It  is  no  wonder 
people  fail  to  derive  pleasure  from  such  performances.  Usually  they  wave  their 
hands,  move  their  bodies,  turn  their  eyes,  thinking  to  show  great  emotion,  but 
all  this  is  a  mistake  and  should  be  avoided.  Such  sickly  sentimentality  has  no 
affinity  with  art.  The  true  artist  is  satisfied  to  let  the  art-work  ^have  its  effect, 
and  while  speaking  on  this  subject  let  me  lay  this  down  as  an  infallible  truth, 
that  a  superior  composition,  well  played,  never  fails  utterly;  it  is  sure  to  make 
some  good  impressions.  Show-work  may  astonish  for  a  time,  but  it  will  soon  be 
denounced  as  such  ;  true  artistic  performances,  though  unostentatious  in  them- 
selves, are  sure  to  find  their  way  to  the  heart,  their  merit  grows.  Indulge, 
therefore,  in  no  other. 

To  teach  pupils,  and  especially  young  children,  to  play  with  expression  is  a 


190  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

very  important  part  of  a  musical  education.  Doubtless  most  teachers  are  faithful 
in  this  particular  ;  many  I  know,  from  observation,  are  not.  There  are  those  who 
claim  that  no  special  efforts  should  be  made  toward  teaching  children  to  play  with 
expression.  A  teacher  once  said  to  me,  "  I  aim  at  nothing  but  a  correct  technical 
performance  with  little  ones."  This  teacher  failed  to  comprehend  the  child's 
capacity.  Had  he  better  appreciated  and  understood  children's  hearts  he  would 
have  pursued  the  opposite  course.  Let  me  add,  that  the  early  neglect  of  teach- 
ing children  to  play  with  expression  has  been  the  cause  of  pupils'  absolute  failure 
in  later  years.  While  the  powers  of  expression  may  be  developed  and  refined, 
they  may  also  be  neglected  and  weakened.  The  early  development  of  expression 
need  not  lead  to  sentimentality  ;  if  a  child  should  be  inclined  to  go  to  excess  the 
teacher  can  easily  remedy  the  evil. 

It  is  the  observation  of  many  thinking  men  that  the  heart  power,  the  powers 
of  sentiment,  are  too  little  developed  among  Americans.  This  does  not  imply 
that  they  are  void  of  these  gifts,  but  it  does  imply  that  our  education  is  far  too 
realistic  and  practical,  and  that  by  this  course  we  are  deprived  of  many  of  the 
more  refined  pleasures  in  life.  This  is  the  rock  upon  which  the  music  teacher 
who  is  earnest  in  his  work  often  founders.  It  is  at  times  a  slow  and  a  most 
tedious  process  to  till  the  ground  which  has  been  neglected  for  years  ;  and  it  is  at 
times  painful  to  notice  how  anxious  pupils  are  to  learn  to  play  with  expression, 
but  without  immediate  results.  Pupils  cannot  always  be  impressed  until  after 
much  instruction ;  and,  as  I  have  already  said,  where  no  impressions  are  made 
there  no  expression  can  be  expected. 

While  some  are  readily  impressed,  others  go  away  apparently  empty-handed. 
Be  patient,  however,  devoted  ones,  the  light  will  sooner  or  later  break  in  upon 
your  minds  ;  be  faithful  and  your  reward  is  certain. 

Reading  between  the  lines,  and  catching  of  the  spirit  requires  much  repeated 
hearing  and  playing.  Sentiment  originates  within,  but  is  very  often  aroused  from 
without.  The  judicious  teacher  must  use  every  means  to  arouse  sentiment. 
Among  these  I  would  enumerate  the  reading  of  good  books,  especially  of  good 
poetry,  looking  at  pretty  pictures,  the  communing  with  nature,  the  hearing  of 
good  music,  etc.  All  these  agencies  will  help  to  develop  sentiment,  and  if  stu- 
dents were  to  hear  some  good  music,  only  once  a  week,  if  they  were  willing  to  let 
its  gentle  rays  fall  upon  their  hearts,  they  would  be  happier  and  better  for  it,  for 
it  is  sure  to  develop  pure  sentiment  in  them  ;  it  will  make  them  more  of  feeling 
men  and  women,  and  as  such  they  will  be  more  useful  and  happy  in  life.  Ah ! 
music  is  not  an  idle  play,  it  is  not  a  mere  empty  pleasure,  nor  is  it  a  love  of  dis- 
play. There  is  a  high  and  a  noble  aim  we  have  in  view,  and  that  aim  is  to  add 
to  our  culture  and  refinement.  We  wish  to  polish  ourselves  and  others  by  listen- 
ing to  good  music,  we  wish  to  arouse  sentiment  and  cause  it  to  overflow  into  life's 
actions,  just  as  men  dig  down  and  bring  to  the  surface  a  rich  vein  of  water.  The 
teacher,  however,  cannot  give  sentiment,  no  more  than  man  can  produce  a  vein  of 
spring-water ;  he  should  however,  develope  it,  and  herein  lies  one  of  the  great 
educational  achievements. 

All  writers  and  musicians  have  acknowledged  the  superior  and  magic  power  of 
the  human  voice.  The  German  writer,  Schubert,  said,  "  Song  doubtless  was  the 
first  article  in  the  tone  world,  it  is  the  axis  around  which  everything  in  art  revolves. " 


EXPRESSION.  191 

All  instruments  are  imitations  of  the  human  voice.  Song  is  the  king  who  sits 
upon  the  throne,  and  before  whom  all  instruments  bow  as  slaves.  The  human 
voice  is  the  first,  the  purest  and  the  most  perfect  instrument  in  the  world.  To  use 
this  instrument  properly  and  effectively,  requires  many  natural  gifts  as  well  as 
true  art-skill.  To  point  out  a  few  of  these  and  to  show  how  they  should  be  used 
is  the  object  of  this  paper. 

Through  its  connection  with  the  word,  song  is  far  more  definite  than  instru- 
mental music.  While  there  is  definiteness  in  the  domain  of  thought,  there  is 
great  uncertainty  when  we  attempt  to  examine  and  to  interpret  our  own  senti- 
ments or  those  of  others.  This  is  one  of  the  main  reasons  why  the  masses,  the 
musically  uneducated,  as  a  rule,  do  not  enjoy  instrumental  music  as  much  as 
songs.  When  launching  out  upon  the  vast  sea  of  instrumental  music,  they  are 
helpless,  they  find  nothing  to  lead  or  to  guide  them  in  their  interpretation  of 
such  music,  while  in  listening  to  song,  they  have  the  words  to  guide  them;  they 
are  the  keys  to  the  dark  and  hidden  chambers  of  sentiment ;  they  are  comments 
upon  music  and  explain  situations.  While  the  instrument  and  player  are  two 
separate  beings,  the  one  but  a  medium  in  the  hand  of  the  other,  by  which  he 
expresses  his  sentiments,  the  singer  and  his  instrument  are  closely  united ;  they 
are  one,  indeed.  This  is  the  great  advantage  which  the  singer  has  over  the 
instrumentalist,  for  through  the  medium  of  the  voice  all  expression  is  direct  and 
free.  This  is  true  only  in  speaking  of  a  good  and  well  trained  voice.  When 
Rossini  said  that  the  three  requisites  of  a  singer  are  voice,  voice  and  voice,  he 
was  correct  in  one  sense,  for  without  it  nothing  can  be  done,  without  it  there  is 
no  prospect,  for  teacher  or  pupil,  of  accomplishing  anything.  For  all,  it  must  be 
acknowledged  that  other  powers  beside  that  of  voice  are  required  to  make  a  good 
singer.  A  person  may  have  a  good  and  well  trained  voice,  he  may  have  reached 
a  high  degree  of  vocal  culture,  and  yet  may  utterly  fail  in  an  art  performance. 
The  singer  must  be  a  person  of  culture  in  order  to  appreciate  points  of  beauty  in 
a  song,  and  to  comprehend  and  see  the  situations  as  they  are  pictured  in  scenes 
and  poems.  The  cold  intellect,  however,  is  not  sufficient,  for  a  mere  recognition 
of  points  of  beauty,  the  mere  comprehension  of  situations  will  no  more  make  a 
person  a  good  singer,  than  the  intellectual  comprehension  of  Bible  truths 
will  make  a  person  a  Christian,  Pure  thought  in  itself  is  cold.  Sentiment 
gives  it  life  ;  it  alone  quickens.  We  must  know  the  teachings  of  the  Word,  and 
we  must  love  them  and  carry  them  out.  Thought  and  sentiment  are  necessary 
in  religion ;  so  thought  and  sentiment  are  necessary  for  a  singer's  success,  for 
without  these  the  most  perfect  vocalization  and  technical  training  fail  to  move 
the  soul  within  us.  However,  let  us  bear  in  mind  that  sentiment  cannot  discern, 
neither  can  it  comprehend  nor  judge,  nor  hit  upon  the  correct  means  to  be 
employed  to  secure  or  to  give  proper  expression,  hence  intellect  and  sentiment 
must  combine,  they  must  cooperate  in  the  performance  of  an  art -work.  But 
these  two  factors  need  a  third,  namely,  the  imagination,  that  power  which  enables 
us,  so  to  speak,  to  h've  ourselves  in  situations  and  conditions  so  that  we  become 
oblivious  to  the  outer  world.  The  singer,  especially  the  one  who  expects  to 
appear  in  opera,  must  be  able  to  step  out  of  himself ;  he  must  be  able  at  any  time 
to  open  and  to  enter  the  doors  of  grief  or  joy ;  he  must  possess  the  magic  wand 
that  transplants  him  into  any  situation  desired.  On  the  wings  of  the  imagina' 


192  JUUSiC   AND   CULTURE. 

tion  lie  must  soar  to  heights  above,  whither  he  draws  his  audience  after  him.  If 
he  possesses  the  powers  of  genius,  if  he  has  the  intellect,  the  sentiment,  the 
voice  and  the  necessary  cultivation,  he  cannot  fail  to  attract;  he  will  be  a 
musical  magnet,  the  power  of  which  is  irresistible  to  the  human  soul  The 
truest  test  of  our  musical  faculties  is  the  effect  which  they  exercise  upon  others. 
If  we  awaken  astonishment  merely,  we  are  far  from  being  worthy  of  the  title  of 
artist,  but  if  we  silence  the  tongue,  if  we  hold  spellbound  the  ear  and  heart,  if 
we  call  forth  sighs  and  cause  the  tears  to  flow,  with  the  charm  of  our  perform- 
ance, then  we  sing  from  the  heart  and  to  the  heart,  we  speak  with  power  of 
mind,  we  soar  on  the  wings  of  the  imagination,  and  we  take  with  us  on  our  up- 
ward flight  whosoever  is  moved  by  us,  and  has  the  power  to  follow.  In  order  to 
sing  with  expression,  in  addition  to  a  good  voice,  therefore,  three  things  are 
necessary,  and  these  are  a  cultivated  mind,  depth  of  sentiment,  and  an  active 
vivid  imagination.  He  who  combines  these  gifts  is  indeed  highly  favored.  It 
is,  therefore,  not  to  be  wondered  that  singers  demand  high  salaries  for  their  ser- 
vices, that  they  often  become  proud  and  are  inclined  to  become  jealous  and 
quarrelsome.  Yet  the  public  and  the  press  are  too  often  to  blame  for  these 
results,  for  both  are  guilty  of  flattering  and  indulging  favorite  public  singers. 
Thus  it  happens  that  their  modesty  is  often  obscured,  conceit  becomes  the  ruling 
passion,  making  the  possessor  of  the  voice  we  love  and  admire  an  object  disagree- 
able to  us. 

Song  is  linked  to  music  and  poetry.  Song  is  merely  a  correct  musical  produc- 
tion of  poetry.  The  singer,  therefore,  like  the  composer,  should  carefully  study 
the  words  so  that  he  may  fully  understand  their  moaning.  In  spite  of  the 
definiteness  of  the  word,  there  may  be  various  conceptions  of  one  and  the  same 
poem.  The  various  settings  of  one  poem,  as,  for  instance,  Goethe's  Erl  King, 
proves  this  fact  beyond  a  doubt. 

Having  fully  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  text,  the  singer  should  next  study 
the  melody  and  harmony,  so  that  he  may  learn  how  the  composer  lias  treated 
the  poem,  and  here  let  me  say  that  it  is  best  for  the  pupil  to  study  first  the 
melody  and  then  the  accompaniment.  In  his  first  studies  let  him  confine  himself 
to  the  study  of  the  notes,  and  when  these  have  been  mastered  he  may  also  read 
between  the  lines,  and  put  upon  the  music  the  stamp  of  his  own  conception  and 
interpretation. 


MAXIMS. 

Waste  neither  words  nor  time. 

Seriousness  is  the  soil  on  which  grows  true  artistic  success. 

The  real  happiness  of  a  teacher  lies  in  his  love  for  his  work. 

Tune  your  hearts  and  tempers  as  well  as  your  fiddles  and  pianos. 

Music  is  the  most  subjective,  the  most  intense  and  passionate  of  all  arts. 

The  artist  who  loves  himself  better  than  his  art  is  not  worthy  of  that  art 

Laziness  is  the  cancer  that  eats  out  the  life  and  prevents  the  success  of  many  a 
talent. 

Contact  with  the  great  may  not  make  us  great,  but  it  makes  us  greater  than 
we  are. 

Love  your  art,  love  the  artist  and  the  art-work,  but  beware  lest  you  make  idols 
of  them. 

Have  respect  for  him  who  does  well  what  he  attempts,  and  does  all  that  lies  in 
his  power. 

If  you  do  not  put  any  heart  power  into  your  music,  how  do  you  expect  people 
to  feel  it? 

Never  sink  beneath  professional  dignity,  nor  rise  above  modesty  and  artistic 
simplicity. 

A  new  and  pleasing  song  or  hymn  tune  is  more  contagious  than  the  measles 
or  smallpox. 

Some  men  fly  as  high  as  eagles,  but  when  they  come  down  to  you  they  are  noth- 
ing but  buzzards. 

The  musician  needs  character  just  as  much  as  the  theologian,  the  statesman, 
and  business  man. 

Every  one  can  hear  the  voice  of  nature,  but  he  only  hears  music  in  it  who  has 
music  in  his  heart. 

Close  observation  is  very  apt  to  lead  to  success,  on  the  part  of  the  teacner 
as  well  as  the  pupil. 

13  193 


194  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

Many  things  are  deserving  of  criticism,  but  not  of  condemnation.     Condemna- 
tion is  not  criticism. 

Egotism  and  conceit  are  two  of  the  meanest  rags  hanging  about  the  framework 
of  the  human  character. 

True  art-culture  passes  only  where  it  is  understood.   Common  sense,  shrewdness 
and  wit  pass  anywhere. 

The  teacher  who  does  not  feel  honored  by  the  profession  he  follows,  will  probably 
not  honor  his  profession. 

Our  affections  for  art  should  be  very  warm,  but  they  should  not  be  allowed  to 
grow  beyond  our  control. 

Some  people  think  everything  is  as  defective  and  incomplete  in  art,  as  their 
own  weak  eyes  behold  it. 

Coleridge  said  that  some  are  like  musical  glasses ;  to  produce  their  finest  tones, 
you  must  keep  them  wet. 

Only  genius  dares  to  set  aside  the  old,  only  genius  dares  to  overstep  the  con- 
ventional rules  of  the  past. 

As  hot  water  hardens  an  egg,  so  constant  and  severe  corrections  and  scolding 
harden  a  pupil's  sensibilities. 

If  hollow  heads  were  to  hurt  as  badly  as  hollow  teeth,  many  teachers  would  be 
better  students  than  they  are. 

Music  speaks  from  the  heart  and  to  the  heart,  it  expresses  emotions,  but  can- 
not describe  scenes  and  situations. 

What  your  pupil  understands  that  he  may  remember.     What  he  does  not 
understand  he  is  sure  not  to  remember. 

Fools  pass  criticism  on  everything  that  comes  before  them,  wise  men  notice  only 
that  which  is  worthy  of  their  attention. 

Would  you  be  successful  in  life,  trust  not  in  luck,  but  do  your  every  day's  duty 
well.     So  only  will  you  achieve  success. 

Application  and  brain  work ;  these  are  the  only  short  cuts  that  lead  to  success 
iix  the  study  of  music ;  there  are  no  others. 

As  teacher,  never  discourage  !    Build  up,  impart  new  life  wherever  you  can. 
Do  not  tear  down  and  crush  out  aspirations. 

The  arts  are  like  banks  of  roses  placed  by  the  side  of  life's  weary  course.  How 
foolish  not  to  rest  thereon  from  time  to  time. 


MAXIMS.  195 

Never  mind  about  your  having  no  genius !    Do  what  you  can,  do  it  as  well  as 
you  can,  and  let  the  results  take  care  of  themselves. 

As  we  grow  morally  better,  we  also  view  art  more  seriously,  and  so  when  the 
soul  grows  corrupt,  we  also  corrupt  art  and  abuse  it. 

Artists  are  as  rare  as  diamonds.    They  must  be  polished  before  they  show  all 
their  beauty.    Life's  cares  usually  do  the  polishing. 

No  progress  is  possible  without  a  high  aim,  diligence  and  self-denial    This 
applies  to  progress  in  the  arts  as  well  as  in  morality. 

Make  your  pupils  think !    That  is  worth  more  than  stating  a  thousand  facts. 
It  is  better  than  many  lessons  committed  to  memory. 

Study  music  in  order  to  beautify  your  own  heart,  and  beautify  your  own  heart 
in  order  to  make  this  world  more  beautiful  to  others. 

The  way  in  which  a  correction  is  made  has  much  to  do  with  its  effectiveness. 
Watch  the  tone  of  your  voice  and  the  look  of  your  eye. 

Love  is  the  common  ground  on  which  art  and  religion  meet    Without  love, 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other  has  any  enduring  powers. 

When  we  think  we  usually  cease  to  feel.    Bear  this  in  mind,  ye  learned  musi- 
cians that  come  to  concerts  with  scores  under  your  arms. 

"I  know  the  subject  of  this  lesson,"  said  a  teacher,  with  a  good  deal  of  self- 
satisfaction.    That  is  well ;  but  do  you  know  the  object  ? 

There  may  not  be  as  many  bad  pictures  as  there  are  bad  songs,  but  the  effect 
of  a  bad  picture  is  far  more  serious  than  that  of  a  bad  song. 

The  musician  who  addresses  the  heart  has  the  most  hearers ;  he  wields  the 
greatest  power ;  he  is  best  loved  and  is  longest  remembered. 

The  improvisations  of  some  organists  are  like  much  quartz  with  but  very  little 
gold  therein.     Improvisations  of  the  masters  are  as  solid  gold. 

The  unjust  critic  does  not  love  art.     How  can  he  love  an  art  that  comes  from 
above,  when  he  cherishes  no  love  for  his  neighbor  here  below? 

You  may  graft  a  tree  and  improve  it  after  it  has  reached  some  growth ;  but 
the  good  artist  springs  up  from  the  seed :  you  cannot  graft  him. 

Music  has  no  prototype  in  nature.     It  does  not  imitate  objects,  but  it  is  a  repre- 
sentation of  life  itself.    It  is  totally  independent  of  the  other  arts. 

There  are  teachers  and  leaders  of  societies  and  choirs  who  are  constantly  in 
trouble,  simply  because  they  lack  tact,  because  they  know  not  how  to  govern. 


196  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

Kings  and  emperors  are  rare,  so  are  true  artists.  The  former  carry  human 
crowns  on  their  heads,  the  latter  bear  the  divine  stamp  upon  their  hearts. 

Encourage  those  who  cultivate  the  beautiful,  for  their  number  is  small  when 
compared  with  the  millions  who  are  sadly  in  need  of  its  benign  influences. 

"  Some  pianists  ought  to  be  very  good  people,"  says  an  old  writer,  "  for  their 
left  hand  never  knows  what  their  right  one  does — that  is,  upon  the  piano." 

Oh,  yes ;  your  art  enjoyments  might  be  greater  if  only  you  yourself  were  greater. 
Your  mind  is  too  small  a  craft,  is  too  easily  filled,  and  draws  too  little  water. 

A  music  teacher  may  make  light  of  his  moral  character,  but  he  will  sooner  or 
later  discover  the  fact  that  the  public  will  not  be  indifferent  to  his  every  day  life. 

An  artist  is  an  artist,  whether  the  rabble  and  the  crowd  recognize  him  as  such 
or  not  One  ounce  of  inward  self-consciousness  is  worth  a  pound  of  empty  praise. 

A  workman's  tool  should  always  be  in  a  condition  for  immediate  use.  So 
should  the  teacher's  mind  be  kept  sharp  and  active  by  study  of  art  and  literary 
works. 

An  hour  lost  is  gone  forever ;  but  an  hour  ill  applied  is  worse  than  gone  forever, 
for  it  requires  the  labor  of  many  hours  to  make  good  again  what  has  been  done 
wrong. 

Very  seldom  does  productiveness  continue  into  old  age.  The  youthful  fiery 
mind  is  gradually  cooled  and  tempered  down  to  become  mature,  careful  and 
critical 

We  say  men  are  accountable  to  God  for  the  use  of  their  means.  Likewise 
teachers  and  editors  are  accountable  for  the  use  they  make  of  their  talents  and 
of  the  arts. 

Men  have  talked  nicely  about  music,  yet  there  is  more  sentiment  in  the  child 
who  sheds  tears  while  singing  a  pretty  song.  Words  come  from  the  brain,  tears 
from  the  heart. 

All  great  minds  are  in  the  advance  of  their  times.  We  ask  not  that  music 
teachers  be  great  men  and  women,  but  have  a  right  to  expect  them  to  be  at  least 
up  to  the  times. 

To  be  worthy  of  praise  and  honor  is  more  honorable  than  to  be  praised  and 
honored.  Strive  first  to  be  worthy  of  both,  regardless  whether  you  will  be  praised 
and  honored  or  not. 

Remember,  dear  fellow  teacher,  that  if  you  are  not  advancing  you  are  sure  to 
slide  back.  What  is  not  calculated  to  push  you  on  is  sure  to  be  a  load  that 
hinders  your  progress. 


MAXIMS.  197 

The  mere  ability  to  play  many  pieces  does  not  entitle  a  person  to  be  called  a 
musician.  There  is  more  needed  than  mere  playing  and  singing  in  order  to  be 
worthy  of  such  a  distinction. 

We  generally  dislike  in  music  what  is  above  our  comprehension.  When  listen- 
ing to  a  lecture,  we  are  not  apt  to  accuse  ourselves  of  stupidity  if  we  cannot 
understand  what  has  been  said. 

First  we  build  a  house,  and  then  we  like  to  see  it  afford  joy  and  comfort  to  its 
occupants.  So  composers  write  songs,  first  to  please  themselves,  afterwards  that 
others  may  take  delight  in  them. 

It  is  the  teacher's  duty  to  pour  into  his  work  all  that  is  in  him,  all  of  his 
strength  and  love.  If  he  withholds  it,  he  is  dishonest — and  his  dishonesty 
injures  himself  as  well  as  his  pupil 

Do  your  duty ;  be  faithful ;  be  generous  and  kind,  and  your  hour  is  bound  to 
come.  Stand  on  the  side  of  truth,  and  the  world  must  come  to  you,  for  you  have 
first  come  to  God,  who  is  the  Truth. 

There  is  much  difference  between  teachers  and  musicians.  Some  give  many 
things  but  not  much  of  anything.  Others  give  only  a  few  things,  but  in  these 
few  things  they  bestow  a  great  deal. 

It  would  be  foolish  to  throw  away  all  ripe  fruit  that  shows  signs  of  decay,  it  is 
also  unwise  to  criticise  and  to  set  aside  wise  men's  minds,  because  they  show 
mental  weaknesses  in  certain  directions. 

The  farmer  must  plow,  sow,  and  cultivate  his  crops  before  he  can  expect  to 
reap  a  harvest,  yet  many  musical  students  expect  to  reap  without  preparatory 
work,  and  without  the  necessary  hard  toil. 

See  that  you  attempt  only  that  for  which  you  are  fitted.  Having  found  your 
field  of  usefulness,  do  your  daily  duty  to  the  best  of  your  ability,  and  realize  that 
this  is  all  of  life.  This  road  leads  to  success. 

To  trust  one's  own  opinions  and  ways  better  than  those  of  others,  may,  under 
certain  circumstances,  be  an  indication  of  individuality  and  strength  of  mental 
power  ;  usually,  however,  it  betokens  conceit. 

Opportunities  rarely  offer  themselves  twice ;  harvest  and  seed  time  come  only 
once  a  year.  Improve  your  opportunities  faithfully ;  sow  in  time,  so  that  you 
may  also  be  permitted  to  gather  in  your  harvest. 

Many  a  man  thinks  he  has  a  good  case  until  he  comes  into  the  presence  of  a 
judge  or  a  jury.  Many  a  pupil  thinks  he  has  a  good  lesson  until  he  comes  into 
the  presence  of  his  teacher  or  before  an  audience. 


198  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

To  teach  without  much  recognition,  to  labor  contentedly  for  small  wages,  to 
work  twelve  and  even  more  hours  a  day,  hidden  away  in  the  school-room,  requires 
a  brave  heart  and  a  strong  faith,  say  what  you  will. 

Genius  and  talent  are  gifts,  and  it  is  foolish  to  boast  of  them.  Show  us  your 
works  and  show  us  the  gain  you  have  made  by  the  use  of  your  gifts,  and  we  will 
tell  you  whether  or  not  you  are  deserving  of  honors. 

Teach  your  pupils  to  think  for  themselves.  Ideas  do  not  grow  in  the  skull  as 
hair  grows  on  top  of  it.  There  are  many  teachers  who  are  mentally  bald-headed, 
and,  of  course,  they  can  only  raise  bald-headed  pupils. 

He  who  has  no  aspirations  sees  no  shortcomings  in  himself.  He  who  aims  not 
to  improve  the  world  finds  it,  as  a  rule,  good  enough.  This  class  of  people  take 
the  world  as  it  is,  'tis  true,  but  they  also  leave  it  as  it  was. 

He  who  works  hardest  values  his  efforts  the  most.  Genius  often  comes  easy 
by  mental  work,  and  hence  is  regarded  but  slightly.  No  matter  how  little  he 
regards  his  own  work,  his  art  he  always  magnifies  and  adores. 

All  seeds  do  not  spring  up,  and  all  your  instructions  are  not  productive  of  good 
results.  It  would  be  foolish  for  the  farmer  to  fret  himself  because  some  seeds  go 
to  waste  ;  and  why  should  the  teacher  be  less  wise  and  reasonable  ? 

It  is  better  that  as  a  teacher  you  should  continue  to  long  for  improvement, 
without  having  your  desires  gratified,  than  that  you  should  stand  still,  perfectly 
satisfied  with  yourself,  feeling  that  self  improvement  is  not  needed. 

Having  eaten  something  unusually  good,  ladies  look  in  the  cook-book  to  learn 
how  the  article  is  prepared.  A  musical  cook-book,  a  volume  telling  amateurs 
what  pieces  mean  and  how  they  are  made,  would  have  a  good  sale. 

Everything  good  and  pure  must  have  its  source  in  something  better  and  purer, 
and  so  we  may  go  backward  and  upward,  when  searching  for  the  finality  of  the 
good  and  beautiful,  until  at  last  we  find  it  concentrated  in  the  Deity. 

It  is  as  great  an  error  to  treat  some  musicians  with  magnanimity  as  it  is  to  treat 
others  with  severity.  Some  musicians  are  like  dogs,  they  must  see  the  whip ; 
others  are  like  spirited  horses,  the  sight  of  the  whip  sets  them  wild. 

Be  a  rational,  thinking  teacher,  not  a  mere  machine.  Be  a  willing  laborer, 
not  a  mere  drudge.  Be  original,  not  a  mere  imitator.  Be  a  leader,  not  a  driver. 
Seek  new  and  better  paths,  remembering  that  he  who  seeks  shall  find. 

The  emotions  which  are  aroused  by  music  in  the  hearts  of  some  are  much  like 
those  called  forth  by  certain  preachers  in  religious  assemblies.  They  are  mere 
nervous  excitement.  Neither  true  art  nor  religion  have  a  part  in  them. 


MAXIMS.  199 

Most  young  people  Who  make  music  their  life's  work  seek  self  first,  their  own 
interests  are  dearer  to  them  than  the  interests  of  art.  It  is  proper  to  attend  to 
our  own  affairs,  but  art  should  be  of  equal  importance  in  the  teacher's  heart. 

Talent  is  of  great  value  to  the  student,  but  talent  without  work  is  as  money 
that  lies  idle.  It  brings  no  interest  and  fails  to  be  a  means  of  support.  Put  your 
talents  out  on  interest  and  endeavor  to  get  the  best  per  cent,  for  them  you  can. 

Consider  well,  oh,  critic,  before  you  say  bitter  and  unkind  words.  Tis  easy  to 
wound,  but  it  requires  years  perhaps  for  the  wound  to  heal.  Always  put  yourself 
in  the  place  of  the  artist  whom  you  are  about  to  criticise  before  you  use  severity. 

Music  expresses  no  definite  ideas,  but  is  a  language  eminently  fitted  for  the 
expression  of  sentiment.  What  kind  of  music  is  that  which  neither  awakens 
nor  expresses  sentiment  ?  Music  without  sentiment  is  like  religion  without  love  ! 

Said  a  teacher,  ':This  pupil  is  as  hard  as  flint;  you  cannot  get  any  fire  into  her 
playing."  This  may  be  your  fault,  dear  teacher.  Maybe  there  is  no  fine  steel  in 
your  own  make-up  ;  or,  perhaps,  you  are  only  soft  iron,  unfit  to  draw  fire  from 
a  flint. 

It  is  only  a  few  years  since  the  American  pianist,  Grottschalk,  amused  his 
audience  by  playing  two  tunes  at  the  same  time.  If  he  were  to  come  back  to  us, 
he  would  hardly  dare  to  attempt  such  a  thing  again.  Who  brought  about  this 
change  ? 

Measure  not  an  artist  by  mere  finger  show  or  vocal  flourishes.  When  listening 
to  music,  endeavor  to  feel  the  artist's  pulse  and  try  to  see  the  lightning  flashes 
of  his  brain  power.  These  are  the  tests  of  artists,  and  they  prefer  to  be  tried  by 
no  other. 

Cross  words  spoken  with  a  smile,  or  pleasant  words  uttered  with  a  frown,  do  not 
express  the  meaning  they  convey.  The  same  is  true  of  good  music  played  by  a 
trifler,  or  trifling  music  played  by  a  learned  musician.  There  is  fitness  in  all 
things. 

The  scientist  only  makes  new  discoveries,  he  finds  that  which  was  hidden,  but 
which  already  had  an  existence.  The  artist,  however,  produces  new  forms  and 
ideas  ;  in  the  finite  sense  of  the  word,  he  is  a  creator,  and  in  this  he  stands  near 
the  Deity. 

No  matter  how  high  we  may  rise  in  our  art  enjoyments,  it  is  so  ordained  that 
we  must  return  again  to  mother  earth  with  all  its  thraldom  and  disappointments. 
Such  pleasures  are  wisely  allowed  us  only  from  time  to  time  ;  it  is  our  daily  duty 
to  live  and  toil. 

There  are  few  ideas  in  music,  as  in  literature,  that  are  entirely  original.  Our 
thoughts  and  sentiments  play  over  into  each  other,  like  the  shades  of  one 
and  the  same  color.  But,  then,  we  admire  these  shades  and  praise  him  who 
produces  them. 


200  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

After  the  performance  of  a  song,  keep  your  mouth  shut,  so  that  other  people 
may  open  theirs  and  speak  in  your  favor.  There  are  many  singers  who  first  do 
the  singing,  and  then  claim,  also,  the  privilege  of  doing  the  talking — about  them- 
selves, of  course. 

There  is  One  Being  who  has  planned  and  made  everything,  and  who  rules  and 
preserves  everything.  Why  should  not  this  rule  apply  to  the  arts  ?  Truly  God 
speaks  through  the  arts  as  He  speaks  through  nature,  and  its  language  Is  a  call  to 
come  nearer  to  Him. 

Do  not  fail  to  keep  the  old  lessons  bright,  else  you  will  be  like  the  housekeeper 
who  has  but  one  clean  room — the  one  she  swept  last.  Go  over  the  old  work 
constantly,  for  reviewing  makes  perfect,  perfection  encourages,  and  encourage- 
ment leads  to  success. 

Unless  the  pupil  has  a  clear  conception  of  the  works  of  art  he  is  to  perform, 
there  can  be  no  clear  expression.  There  is  a  twofold  study,  namely,  that  of  the 
spirit  and  that  of  the  technique.  Many  are  satisfied  with  the  latter,  neglecting 
altogether  the  former. 

He  who  is  inspired  in  his  work  cannot  be  unhappy  in  it.  If  ever  there  is  an 
occupation  which  is  calculated  to  inspire  men,  it  is  that  of  teaching.  He  who 
enters  his  work  without  inspiration  is  a  mere  hireling,  whose  work  will  never  be 
productive  of  great  good. 

You  cannot  carry  a  torch  through  a  dense  crowd  without  burning  some  one. 
You  cannot  drive  your  carriage  over  dirty  roads  without  getting  the  wheels 
muddy.  Neither  can  you  edit  a  paper  without  meeting  opposition  and  calling 
forth  disapproval  of  some. 

Let  teachers  in  each  lesson  give  one  or  two  brief  historic  facts.  Let  these  be 
stated  in  plain  words,  so  that  the  pupil  may  understand  and  remember  them. 
You  will  be  surprised  how  much  information  can  be  imparted  during  a  term  or 
two  by  this  simple  method. 

Keep  calm,  ye  quiet  workers  who  live  in  secluded  places.  Keep  to  the  truth, 
do  honest  work,  and  let  the  results  take  care  of  themselves.  It  is  better  that  you 
be  worthy  of  honors  than  that  you  carry  them  unworthily.  Keep  calm,  some 
day  your  work  will  be  revealed. 

There  is  no  one  so  modest  but  that  he  likes  to  hear  a  word  of  praise  and 
recognition.  It  is  an  error  to  withhold  either  for  fear  that  the  pupil  will  become 
vain.  If  it  is  your  duty  to  point  out  shortcomings,  it  is  also  your  duty  to  recog- 
nize merit.  Be  moderate  in  both. 

A  wonderful  art  is  this  of  ours.  It  speaks  to  every  heart,  and  that  according 
to  its  own  feelings.  It  addresses  every  intellect  and  teaches  as  much  as  the  mind 
can  understand.  Yet  neither  head  nor  heart  have  ever  exhausted  the  powers  of 
music  or  reached  its  greatest  depth. 


MAXIMS.  201 

Each  teacher,  like  a  mariner,  is  at  liberty  to  take  what  course  he  chooses  upon 
the  vast  sea  of  musical  instruction.  He  has  his  chart,  he  has  his  instruments ; 
let  him  use  them  judiciously.  His  speed  and  successful  entry  to  the  harbor 
will  show  what  sort  of  an  instructor  he  is. 

The  composer  who  minds  public  criticism,  the  opinion  of  the  masses,  tries  to 
steer  his  ship  according  to  the  weather-vane.  He  will  never  go  far  in  one  direction, 
and  in  the  end  will  be  condemned  by  all  for  not  making  progress  on  the  road  of 
success.  Mind  your  own  affairs  and  go  ahead. 

Honor  and  reputation  are  two  distinct  things.  Men  may  have  honor  but  lack 
reputation,  while  many  a  man  of  reputation  is  devoid  of  honor.  Honor  grows 
in  the  garden  of  the  heart ;  reputation  grows  in  the  commons  of  public  opinion, 
and  there  it  often  appears  as  a  worthless  weed. 

Some  musicians  seem  to  fail  everywhere,  hence  they  constantly  complain  of  the 
hardness  of  fate  and  the  treachery  of  the  world.  Let  such  remember  that  stones 
sink  in  water ;  corks  and  sticks,  however  float  along.  The  world  does  not  toss 
stones  about ;  only  windy  foot-balls  are  kicked  around. 

Our  peculiar  mental  construction  often  causes  us  to  differ  in  our  views  concern- 
ing art,  as  well  as  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  same.  The  one  looks  at  it,  as  it  were, 
through  a  green,  the  other  through  a  red  glass.  Learn  to  see  it  without  a  glass, 
so  that  you  may  appreciate  art  in  all  its  purity  and  beauty. 

He  only  is  entitled  to  criticise  who  fully  comprehends  the  art  work.  Most 
critics  merely  search  for  faults  and  shortcomings,  passing  silently  or  perhaps 
ignorantly  over  all  that  is  good,  and  this  they  call  criticism.  He  who  fails  to 
realize  the  good  in  an  art  work  has  no  right  to  point  out  its  defects. 

What  if  an  architect  cannot  conceive  the  plan  of  a  great  cathedral  or  a  palace? 
If  he  builds  for  us  good  comfortable  houses  we  ought  to  respect  him  for  what  he 
does.  What  if  a  composer  cannot  conceive  a  great  symphony:  if  he  gives  us  good 
music  for  teachers'  use,  should  we  not  honor  him  for  what  he  has  done  ? 

It  is  an  old  saying,  that  all  beginnings  are  difficult,  but  when  applying  this  sen- 
tence to  art,  one  may  well  add  that  both  the  beginning  and  the  end  are  difficult 
Our  great  pianists  and  singers  have  no  easy  task  to  keep  up  their  professional 
standing.  It  is  by  no  means  easy  for  teachers  to  keep  abreast  of  the  times. 

Some  pupils  are  like  those  who  take  only  a  few  bites  of  each  dish.  They  taste 
many  things  and  eat  and  drink  until  they  have  dyspepsia.  So  many  pupils  learn 
a  little  of  this  and  a  little  of  that  piece  they  never  digest  anything  well ;  their 
food  does  not  nourish  them  ;  they  cannot  grow ;  they  are  musical  dyspeptics. 

There  are  too  many  mechanical  teachers,  men  and  women  who  merely  assign 
lessons  for  the  pupils  to  study,  and  hear  recitations.  There  is  not  a  spark  of  life 


202  MUSIC  AND   CULTURE. 

or  originality  about  their  work.  They  go  on  to-day  as  they  did  yesterday,  they 
use  the  same  means  with  A  which  they  apply  to  B.  What  can  be  expected  from 
such  teachers? 

But  recently,  we  noticed  upon  a  concert  bill  the  announcement  that  a  certain 
singer  had  been  heard  by  some  of  the  crowned  heads  of  Europe.  It  would  have 
been  more  creditable  to  have  boasted  of  having  appeared  before  people  that  have 
something  in  their  heads,  than  of  having  sung  before  people  that  have  something 
on  their  heads. 

Schopenhauer  says  that  the  amount  of  noise  a  man  can  support  with  equa- 
nimity is  in  inverse  proportion  to  his  mental  capacity,  and  should  be  regarded 
as  a  measure  of  one's  intellectual  powers.  He  who  habitually  slams  the  doors 
instead  of  closing  them  gently  is  not  only  an  ill-bred,  but  also  a  coarse-grained, 
feebly-endowed  creature. 

He  who  weeps  over  a  pretty  piece  of  music  cannot  be  utterly  depraved. 
Though  his  heart  may  be  covered  all  over  with  rubbish,  there  will  be  found 
blooming  in  the  little  openings  some  gentle  flowers,  small  and  crippled,  to 
be  sure,  but  endowed  with  vigor  enough  to  cause  them  to  grow  as  soon  as  light 
and  warmth  are  admitted. 

Yes,  yes ;  music  is  the  art  that  best  expresses  emotion.  That  is  good  enough 
as  far  as  it  goes  ;  but  what  are  your  emotions  that  music  is  to  express  ?  That 
is  another  question.  And  then  comes  still  another.  Do  you  know  how  to 
use  an  art  as  a  means  of  expression  ?  How  many  there  are  who  display  utter 
ignorance  upon  these  points. 

Stupidity  and  envy  obscure  many  a  man's  good  work.  Stupidity  we  may 
pardon,  but  not  envy.  The  first  bears  its  own  marks  of  recognition,  the  second 
is  generally  sly  and  deceitful.  It  is  a  mean  man,  who,  seeing  a  greater  light  than 
himself,  attempts  to  blow  it  out,  or  to  put  it  under  a  bushel.  Envy  is  a  sure 
indication  of  inferiority,  of  a  lack  of  culture. 

The  pupil  who  imagines  that  a  superior  teacher  will  carry  him  through  without 
doing  hard  work  himself  is  sure  to  be  disappointed.  Learn  to  stand  upon  your 
own  feet,  for  you  must  walk  over  every  foot  of  the  road  that  leads  to  success. 
There  are  no  stage  coaches  or  bicycles  that  will  take  you  there.  If  you  covet 
success  as  a  musician  you  must  fight  to  attain  it. 

Many  teachers  regard  work  as  a  punishment,  a  task  that  causes  them  to  moan 
and  to  fret.  Why  are  you  in  the  world  ?  Surely  not  for  the  purpose  of  idling 
away  your  time.  To  work  and  to  do  something  for  the  progress  of  mankind  is  a 
great  privilege.  If  teaching  is  a  task,  quit  it,  and  try  something  else.  But  if 
you  are  unwilling  to  do  anything,  then  you  hardly  deserve  to  live. 

Many  persons  are  capable  of  receiving  good  art  impressions,  though  they  would 
utterly  fail,  were  they  to  attempt  to  give  expression  to  their  impressions.  Many 


MAXIMS.  203 

newspaper  critics,  however,  give  expression  to  their  views  about  art  works,  with- 
out having  received  any  art  impressions.  They  view  art  works  as  they  would 
political  speeches.  Any  one  who  listens,  they  say,  can  understand. 

Seek  always  to  see  the  bright  side  of  your  work,  and  be  sure  of  this  one  fact, 
that  there  is  a  bright  side.  Do  not  look  at  the  dark  side  of  your  professional 
labors.  Look  at  its  pleasures  and  not  at  its  drudgery  ;  look  upward,  not  down- 
ward ;  look  at  your  pupils  with  love,  and  not  with  a  frown  and  an  expression  of 
despair.  Thus  alone  will  you  do  good,  and  be  happy  in  your  work. 

Correct  playing  and  singing  is  the  work  of  years.  It  depends  much  upon 
mechanical  accuracy,  and  this  should  by  no  means  be  neglected.  But  we  would 
rather  the  pupil  would  make  a  few  mistakes  and  let  the  light  of  his  soul  shine 
out  of  his  playing,  than  that  he  perform  a  piece  with  a  faultless  technique  and 
play  without  expression,  without  the  voice  of  the  heart  being  heard  in  it. 

Those  who  have  done  much  in  life  usually  feel  most  keenly  the  littleness  of 
then-  eiforts  and  results.  Those  who  have  done  but  little  usually  are  the  con- 
ceited ones.  They  magnify  their  own  importance,  and  one  might  let  them  alone 
in  this  particular,  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  they  are  not  satisfied  with  magnify- 
ing themselves.  No,  they  must  belittle  others  also.  Contempt  on  such  fellows ! 

Human  nature  is  not  always  an  agreeable  subject  for  study,  but  all  teachers 
must  study  it.  Some  natures  are  ugly,  and  some  beautiful ;  some  are,  as  cold  as 
whiter,  some  warm  as  spring ;  some  are  prickly,  as  thistles,  and  others  sweet, 
as  violets ;  some  are  sly  and  venomous,  as  serpents,  others  are  innocent,  as 
doves.  To  adapt  one's  self  to  the  different  individuals  is  the  real  wear  and  tear 
of  a  teacher's  work. 

Only  he  who  loves  art  for  its  own  sake  can  endure  hardships  for  it  Only  the 
pure,  unselfish  love  for  art  endures  throughout  life ;  it  is  like  the  waters  of  a 
spring,  every  day  brings  its  own  supply.  He,  however,  who  seeks  only  honors 
and  riches  in  the  domain  of  the  arts,  is  a  hireling  ;  he  flees  when  privations  and 
difficulties  stare  him  in  the  face,  or  having  his  desires,  his  love  for  the  art  soon 
wanes  and  dies  out. 

Critics  should  bear  in  mind  the  fact  that  there  are  other  people  endowed  with 
just  as  good  taste  and  correct  judgment  as  they  are.  This  will  make  them  more 
considerate  and  truthful.  Some  critics  seem  to  think  that  they  alone  have  correct 
musical  ears,  while  the  rest  of  the  people  are  not  capable  of  forming  a  correct 
estimate  of  a  performance.  Such  vanity  often  peeps  out  between  the  lines 
of  newspaper  criticisms. 

A  gardener  was  so  absorbed  in  his  cuttings  that  he  failed  to  notice  the  arrival 
of  a  visitor.  Upon  seeing  his  friend,  he  said,  "Pardon  me,  you  see  one  must  put 
his  whole  mind  on  these  young  things,  if  he  would  have  them  do  well ;  and  I 
cannot  bear  that  one  should  die  on  my  hands,  for  I  should  feel  almost  as  if  I  had 


-     -        • 
i       -----     _< 


• 


MAXIMS.  205 

tongues  are  unjust  and  unkind     Yet  they  always  boast  of  the  fact  that  they  have 
enemies  and  regard  it  as  an  indication  of  personal  worth.     Such  blindness  ! 

Our  JEolian  harp  was  in  the  window,  and  the  gende  evening  breeze  was  play- 
ing upon  the  strings.  Some  children  came  by  laughing  and  talking,  but  no 
sooner  had  they  heard  the  soft  tones  of  the  instrument,  than  they  stood  silently 
and  listened.  A  number  of  persons  were  talking  in  the  room,  when  the  sweet 
tones  reached  their  ears.  Though  engaged  in  a  lively  conversation,  they  instantly 
became  still  and  thoughtfully  listened.  Oh,  Music !  thou  hast  indeed  great 
charms.  Thy  influence  is  more  powerful  and  more  general  than  that  of  any  other 
art. 

Warm  sunlight  is  productive  of  growth  in  plant  life,  cold  and  chilling  air 
destroys  it  The  growth  of  crops  that  required  weeks  of  warm  sunlight  may  be 
destroyed  in  a  half-hour  by  icy  rain.  Compare  your  school-room  or  your  lesson 
to  the  field,  and  see  whether  your  conduct  and  your  speech  is  like  sunshine  or  like 
hail  Many  teachers  are  like  hail-storms  in  their  intercourse  with  little  ones. 
They  are  always  severe  and  cold.  Such  teachers  never  raise  good  crops ;  they 
are  not  productive,  but  decidedly  destructive.  Severity  may  be  needed,  but  it 
should  be  mingled  with  love. 

Musical  education,  like  all  other  mental  progress,  is  of  slow  growth.  Do  what 
we  will,  the  rosebud  takes  its  own  time  to  unfold.  The  same  is  true  of  the  human 
mind.  We  may  press  the  rosebud  and  force  it  to  open,  but  the  flower  will  not  be 
as  beautiful  or  as  fragrant  as  it  would  have  been  had  it  unfolded  in  its  own  slow 
process.  Neither  will  it  be  a  healthy  and  enduring  flower.  Do  not  hasten  the 
young  mind,  for  this  is  a  dangerous,  unhealthy  process.  Too  much  work  laid 
upon  the  pupil  is  often  as  injurious  to  the  mind  as  too  much  water  and  heat  for 
the  plant  Give  the  child  time  for  development 

The  teacher  should  talk  in  his  lessons ;  yes,  he  should  be  a  good  talker ;  but  he 
should  be  far  more  than  that — he  should  be  a  good  teacher.  Talking  is  not  teach- 
ing. Beware  of  those  who  proffer  to  teach  you  ah1  about  harmony  in  a  few  days. 
They  may  tell  you  all  about  it,  but  they  do  not  teach  you  all  about  it  There  is 
a  difference  between  telling  and  teaching.  Some  men  may  unduly  lengthen 
the  course  of  instruction  in  harmony,  but  no  teacher  can  complete  a  course  in  a 
week  or  in  a  month.  Yet  there  are  teachers  who  claim  to  be  able  to  do  this  very 
thing.  A  man  may  ride  over  a  ten-acre  field  in  a  very  short  time,  but  it  requires 
time  to  plough  it  well,  and  still  longer  to  raise  a  good  crop  on  it 

See  to  it  that  you  well  know  what  you  wish  to  teach.  Next  endeavor  to  ac- 
quaint yourself  with  the  best  methods  of  teaching.  Then  study  human  nature, 
so  that  you  may  know  how  to  control  and  how  to  stimulate  to  action  those  whom 
you  are  called  upon  to  instruct  Be  observing,  so  that  you  may  realize  whether 
your  pupil  is  doing  all  he  can  do,  and  whether  he  is  progressing  as  rapidly  as  he 
ought  to.  Last,  but  not  least,  keep  the  heart-fire  burning  within  you,  keep  the 
love-light  from  going  out ;  that  is,  love  for  pupil,  love  for  art,  love  for  truth,  and 
love  for  mankind.  By  following  these  rules  you  are  sure  to  succeed. 


206  MUSIC  AND  CULTURE. 

Those  who  devise  methods  usually  claim  that  theirs  are  the  only  correct  ones. 
There  is  more  than  one  good  method  in  teaching,  and  why  should  teachers  become 
so  wrathy  when  others  differ  from  them  in  the  way  of  doing  things  ?  The  one- 
method  idea  does  not  serve  in  all  cases.  Neither  human  minds  nor  hearts  can  be 
pressed  into  one  mould.  There  is  great  diversity  in  hearing  and  seeing,  and  also 
in  appreciating.  This  world  is  full  of  diversity.  No  two  trees,  though  of  the 
same  species,  look  alike.  Different  plants  and  animals  require  different  treat- 
ment. Why  should  we  deny  this  advantage  to  our  pupils  ?  Some  teachers  hang 
the  coat  of  a  method  on  all  pupils'  shoulders,  whether  it  fits  or  not.  Adapt  the 
method  to  the  child,  do  not  endeavor  to  adapt  the  child  to  the  method. 

Do  not  only  look  at  the  world  as  it  ought  to  be,  but  see  it  as  it  is.  Of  course, 
try  to  make  it  what  you  think  it  should  be,  but  you  will  never  succeed  in  doing 
this  unless  you  know  what  the  world  really  is.  Have  some  object  in  view,  have 
a  definite  plan  with  your  pupils,  and  strive  for  that  ideal  you  see  before  you. 
When  you  consider  what  your  pupils  ought  to  be,  do  not  fail  to  study  their  real 
condition  and  see  what  they  are.  It  is  easy  to  find  fault  with  pupils  and  with 
the  world,  but  to  make  them  both  better,  is  quite  another  thing.  There  is  no 
reward  promised  for  the  faultfinder,  but  there  is  a  reward  for  him  who  corrects 
evils.  This  is  the  teacher's  mission.  By  viewing  your  professional  work  from 
this  standpoint,  you  will  always  find  it  interesting  and  honorable. 

Are  you  cast  down,  fellow  teacher  ?  Give  us  your  hand  !  Many  times  we 
have  felt  as  if  the  world  were,  so  to  speak,  boarded  up,  and  our  progress  would 
be  forever  stopped !  Many  tunes  we  have  felt  as  if  we  had  lived  in  vain,  and  as 
if  our  work  were  but  as  dust.  Yet,  there  comes  again  the  night  that  is  filled 
with  music, 

"  And  the  cares  that  infest  the  day 
Shall  fold  their  tents  like  the  Arabs, 
And  as  silently  steal  away." 

Bear  up,  fellow  teachers,  there  is  not  a  cloud  but  that  is  followed  by  sunshine, 
and  while  the  cloud  darkens  your  pathway,  have  faith  in  the  sun  and  hope  for 
its  appearance. 


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